Rich or Poor, We Can Still Party Together
by GlitterSharkEats
Summary: Deep in the bowels of poverty, a sickness incapacitates Adamaris. Dragon, regretting her choice to stay with him, realizes that money is both the source of all evil and the most essential tool for survival. Pity she's so bad with choices.
1. Pt 1

A/N - Oh geez like at this 3-part beast of crap. Its taken me several long months of heartache, blood, Oreos and hot chocolate to finish this half-assed piece of something. That's just my opinion. Anyway, it really did take me a long time to finish this. Partly because of college and an ass-load of work, but mostly because I'm lazy and everytime I brought this thing up I would see some tiny flaw and instantly retreat back to my twin bed that is a bitch to get onto. When I wasn't in class, doing stuff for class, thinking about class, dreading class, or eating, I was working on this and it is still sorta uncompleted in a way. I don't think its as good as it could be. Warning, the ending totally sucks but after a while I was kinda like "fuck it." Bah. Oh, Rated T for psuedo-sex, language, and tight pants. Also cheezy love hugs. JSYK.

Anyway, in short, this tripod fic follows my two fav OC, Dragon and Adamaris. I won't spoil anything but it does include the worst fight scene ever. More about that when it comes up. I also apologize for any minor spelling errors or the such, I combed this as best as I could but some parts are tricky. I will also offer my apologies to whatever did to royally screw this thing up. I can already see the paragraphs aren't indented, what the Hell. I hate how this site has such a different style than Word. Angst!

Okay, enjoy. Peace out yo~

* * *

The Blade Liger is only halfway through its leap before a laser beam, thick as a Genosaurer and just as heavy, collides with the cat's left hind leg. The Zoid roars a cry so terrifying and deep that even the spectators in the stands wince and feel their stomach contents perform a mile-high drop. The Blade Liger hits the flat concrete floor snout-first, metal chips flying into the air like tiny, self-propelled meteorites.

Dragon is stupidly, pathetically frantic in the cockpit, the alarms a blaring cacophony of noise ringing in her skull. "C'mon, Rig. Get up." She urges, pulling the controls to get her Zoid back on his paws, back in the game. The Liger, gears whirling and turning, manages to get back on three legs, the fourth hanging limp and ugly. Rigel snarls, and that one sound of fear, hatred, and revenge, powers Dragon enough to spin her Zoid around to face her opponent.

"Ouch! Dragon and her Blade Liger had a nasty hit, but they are up again! Let's see how Shear reacts to that! Oooo, his Iron Drill does not look happy!" The announcer booms, an annoying and overzealous voice from above, like the audience needs his recap in order to know what's going on. But what he says is true. On the other side of the arena, the blue Iron Drill pulls back its metal lips in a feral roar, silver teeth all bared. It hops up and down, a real simian made of metal and missile launchers. Dragon feels sickness grow in her gut as her Liger slumps, rickety and unsure on three paws.

The pilots don't talk to each other. Dragon keeps her mouth shut and so does Shear. In this, in the battle environment, words don't win fights but claws and teeth, beams and shields, do. Dragon bears down on the controls, letting Rigel's alloy blades do all the conversing for them. It's a stupid trick, running a lame gait at this fully armored, barely nicked monkey, but Dragon's options and ideas are as useless as her Zoid's bad leg at this point. Now it's all or nothing, one last barrage. The blades effortlessly fall to Rigel's sides, the dark ebony of their surface lighting up with a pure, untainted blue, the color of Windeen Lake on a cool day. Rigel picks up speed, his paws thumping on the concrete and he leaps, beautifully, frozen for a moment, the left-hand blade pivoted and aimed just right to slice the Iron Drill's arm clean off…..

And the fucker _grabs it._

One meaty metal fist closes over the blade's hilt. The way Rigel stops would be funny, if Dragon were not about to be liquidated. The other Iron Drill fist is coming closer, huge, to smash Rigel's neck, bang him up and make him bleed but Dragon pulls the blade lever before she even thinks. Reaction. So many years of piloting and she can do this in an instant. The blade whizzes forward like a guillotine, but instead of delivering the deathblow, the Iron Drill is suddenly minus an arm.

Rigel hops away as the Iron Drill screeches, it's fist covering the leaking stump. The crowd cheers and the Blade Liger skids around, fangs bared. Dragon lets the tingles of success creep up her spine. She's doing good now, but this match is far from over.

* * *

If Dragon hates anything, she hates losing. The arena is cleared out save for stragglers traveling in packs like sleepers, combing over the empty seats for any armor shards that maybe possible made it all the way into the stands. Dragon is sitting on the cold floor, watching Godos workers shove the remains of her beloved Blade Liger into a heap to be transported to some giant incinerator. The loss wasn't all bad, Dragon admits to herself. The Iron Drill scored lucky, firing all six missiles at the Blade Liger at such a close range that the fireworks still danced in Dragon's sight when she closed her eyes. Broken and battered, Rigel crashed to the ground and the great ape ended the match with a neck-crunching kick.

Dragon rubs the back of her neck. That defining snap, that telltale twist, and her Zoid dropped dead. Even she could feel it, lingering along her spine with a dull ache as if someone had taken a cloth ball and pegged it hard against her back. But worse was the ache of failure, of losing a precious 5,000 Gallos from this match. Dragon slumps forward, elbows on her knees, and doesn't hear the footsteps behind her until the figure is nearly on top of her.

Adamaris nudges her with his foot. "Hey," He says softly, his word an ocean of calm in Dragon's otherwise stormy sea. She tilts her head backwards in time for him to crouch down, his lips to the crown of her forehead and the bump of his knees by her ribs. Dragon is usually embarrassed by this sort of fuckery, all the snuggling and touching but for Adamaris, she can't help it. "You know what would make you feel better?" He practically purrs, dark hair and funny blue bang hovering within Dragon's sight.

"What?" Dragon grins, a simple gesture, as if she hadn't just lost a much needed win.

"Food!" Adamaris chirps loudly. Dragon laughs. "And booze, maybe. Some Jaegerbombs for you, or straight up vodka? Don't worry sweetheart I know a guy who has a place and we are going to go and get _fucked_." Adamaris smiles a silly smile and Dragon's grin grows wider because in an instant, everything seems okay.

Dragon has no idea what she is drinking, but it is colorful, a swirling vortex holding a galaxy of shades; pink and blue, green and yellow. Dragon wonders how the colors don't mix into one but before she can consider it too heavily, a person bumps her from behind and a third of the liquid sloshes out onto the floor.

"Sorry babe! My bad!" A guy, reeking of sweat and oil, leans over to her and gestures to her drink. "Let me get you another."

Dragon recoils. "No thanks, I'm good." She answers, stumbling away before the sweaty guy can land a thick-handed paw on her. She lost Adamaris long ago, watched him swagger off drunkenly with a guy and a girl, his tight jeans halfway off before he even made it to the bedroom. Dragon shudders slightly at the thought, her drink clutched tight in her hand as she pushes and squeezes her way to the kitchen. It's not as crowded here, the people thinned to tipsy couples battling for passionate kisses. Dragon dumps the rest of her fruity drink and goes for a glass of water. The sweet, cool bliss is barely to her lips when Dragon hears an excited cry. She glances over her shoulder and is promptly tackled by a girl, dark blonde hair waving around, bracelets jangling like music notes.

"Dragon! Wow, didn't expect to see you here. Is Adamaris with you?" Jenna pips, brandishing her glass of gin and soda. She's a little farther along than tipsy; already her green eyes are dulled by the effects of alcohol. Dragon looks at her the same way Rigel looked at the Iron Drill; a threat in the midst, but not one to take too seriously. Not yet. Dragon does like Jenna, she really does, but the complicated tension between her and Adamaris is a fight Dragon has trouble steering clear of.

"He was. I lost him, though. I think he's in the bedroom getting some action." Dragon chuckles, leaning against the sink and finally taking a sip of water. Wonderful. Jenna scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"No kidding. Can't say I'm surprised. Addy only thinks with _one_ head," Jenna winks at Dragon, who blushes coyly in return. Jenna must find this adorable, for she laughs and bends over to give Dragon another hug. "I'll see you later, okay Dragon? And go find him, before he starts something?"

"Will do." Dragon answers lamely, and Jenna vanishes into the crowd as quickly as she came. Dragon suddenly feels very awkward, standing there with more booze in her body than blood. Dragon never really drinks a lot, that's why so many of Adamaris' friends found it odd when they hooked up. Dragon was the amazing pilot. Adamaris was the amazing partygoer. Their worlds, though different, completed them in a sort of jumbled meteors-falling-from-the-sky mess.

Dragon spotted Charlie, the guy whose house this was and invited them –well, invited Adamaris-, over. He was a shorter guy with a wild Mohawk, glitter in his hair like rain and rings running up and down all his fingers. She reached out and tapped him.

"Hey man, do you know where Adamaris is?"

"Getting a blowjob, last time I heard." Charlie shrugs, opening cabinets and drawers for another bottle opener for his beer. A surge of something, maybe anger, or even protectiveness, builds up hot in Dragon's cheeks. Relationships with Adamaris, she found out a while ago, don't exactly work.

"Yeah, but where is he?" Dragon pressed.

Charlie wrinkled his nose. "Uh. Check the master bedroom. Upstairs, second room on the left. Knock first."

"Thank you." Dragon says and throws herself back into the crowd, a wild and crazed bunch of partiers, all swinging limbs and white teeth and loud laughs. There are a ridiculous amount of glow sticks around.

"Hey!" Charlie calls after her. "If you see any of my bottle openers, let me know?"

* * *

The door is closed but not locked. Dragon might as well be heading into the Genobreaker's lair. It's quiet up here, the party mostly downstairs but Dragon hears the unmistakable sound of pleasure coming from a few rooms. She cringes. She never had this problem back on Nyx. All she did was pilot, eat, sleep, and get into loads of trouble with other people and Zoids. Pressing an ear to the door, Dragon doesn't hear anything save for the eerie silence. So its stand out here awkwardly, or go in and make things even more awkward. Dragon rocks back and forth, wishes she stayed and oversaw Rigel getting rebuilt over this.

Without fully thinking, wanting this over with, Dragon pushes open the door, softly, a crack, to peer inside. It's dark, with only the streetlights outside providing any mask of visibility. The bed in the room is huge, luxurious, with a fully canopy and ornately drawn headboard with Liger Zero figures adorning it's wood. The rest of the room is beautifully furnished, all expensive knickknacks and elegant light fixtures. Dragon steps the rest of the way inside; she doesn't see anybody, even though she's positive this is the right room. All set and ready to move on, Dragon flinches with surprise when something on the bed moves.

"Eve damnit, my head…..Oh fuck it, they left me!" Adamaris curses, and Dragon hears an intense rattling echo from the bed. She eases closer, eyes adjusting and there he is. Adamaris is partially naked, his shirt thrown off, a pair of gold handcuffs looped around his wrist and back around the headboard. He's stuck. Dragon can't help but let out a stifled laugh.

Adamaris turns to her. Even in the near dark, Dragon sees the flash of his teeth and the way his muscles relax. "Dragon," He rasps, and Dragon can only guess what recently went into that mouth. "Get me out of here. Please?" The last bit if almost a whine, but Dragon isn't letting him off that easy. He got himself into this mess.

"Where's the key?" She asks, pretending to search for it. "If I don't find it, you can stay here." She teases. Only Adamaris takes it seriously, and his head flops onto the bed. He whines and Dragon glances over at him from her intrusive shuffling around.

"Over here. On the bed somewhere. Shit, these kids were so pretty, you shoulda seen them, but then they left me! Or forgot about me. Whichever." Adamaris groans, his words muffled by pillow. Dragon signs, longs for the old days on Nyx before shit hit the fan, but walks over to the blanket and starts feeling about. When she instead gets a handful of Adamaris, she lets go and smacks him playfully for leaving her to go screw around.

"Ow! Easy," Adamaris grunts, wriggling around. He moves in such a way that Dragon can suddenly see one bright eye staring at her, heavy and lusting, the pupil blown so blackness eats up the steely hue of his iris. "Did you find it yet? Hurry up, these handcuffs hurt." He complains, eye shutting so he melts completely back into the shadows.

"The things I do for you…." Dragon starts to argue, her fingers finally closing on the tiny key that unlocks the handcuffs.

"I'll do to you. Only better." Adamaris chuckles and Dragon can see and even feel that sleazy grin, even under the cover of night. The exasperation that exhales from her mouth earns another short laugh from Adamaris, who, despite being chained to a bed, really seems to be enjoying this. Dragon, not so much.

"I hate you." She seethes, unlocking the handcuff and throwing them to the ground. Adamaris rubs his wrist and with the shadows watching their every move, Dragon misses the sudden gleam in his eyes. But he lurches forward anyway and suddenly Dragon is on her back on top of the messy covers, mouth running dry and heart hammering a broken song in her chest. Fear builds in her chest, panic causes her head to hurt. Adamaris leans down and Dragon smells the stale reek of booze and weed ruining this breath.

"I'll make you love me." He promises.

* * *

Thankfully, Dragon still has all of her clothes on when she eventually wakes up. The sunlight is bright and annoying and verging on painful as she rolls onto her back, vision all hazy and fuzzy. He mouth is full of hypothetical cotton balls. Adamaris is conked out beside her, mouth partly open and body relaxed. Dragon has no idea where they are.

_Oh, the party! _She remembers, and even the action of remembering sends her brain into a pounding headache. Dragon sighs and massages her temples. _What would Tank say, if she saw me now? _Obviously, Dragon's Brain didn't get the idea, and the continued stream of thoughts assaulted her body like a Vulcan gun. Trying to kill any attempt at thinking, Dragon looks over at Adamaris and gives his arm a half-hearted slap.

"Wake up."

Adamaris makes a sleepy noise and rolls away, his back to Dragon so she can see the fresh ink of his recent tattoo on his shoulder; a stylish black peace sign, crafted so to look like a zipper all the way around. The skin surrounding the tattoo is still red and angry looking, being only two days old, so Dragon feels slightly guilty when she reels back and gives it a loud 5-star slap. The sound shatters the blissful silence and Adamaris jolts awake with a startled crying yelp, his shoulder spazzing a bit as the red turns a deeper, meaner shade of scarlet.

"Sorry, but you didn't wake up. I thought you were dead," Dragon partly lies, speaking louder to be heard over Adamaris' curses as he tries to arch his neck and see the damage. 'It's not that bad, really!"

Adamaris tilts his head up to glare at her. "I love you, but I am not loving your sick desire to always hit me." He snips, and Dragon knows him too well at this point, that all he'll do is moan and bitch until Dragon apologizes.

"Then stop getting bombed every damn day," Dragon argues, her fingers kneading the sore spot of the tattoo. Adamaris stiffens a little, his eyes bloodshot and mistrusting until Dragon manages to work him enough to close his eyes and soften against her hand. "I need to check on Rigel soon." She brings up. She has no idea what time it is, but it just feels later in the day. Certainly not 10:00 in the morning, the time she's use to waking up at.

"In a bit. But this is nice." Adamaris purrs. Dragon scoffs, takes back her hand and struggles her way out of the bed, sheets parting from her form like water. Getting drunk –no, getting completely and totally, 100% shitfaced- is still a new feeling, so Dragon wobbles and the whole world goes topsy-turvy as she stumbles over to the door. _How much did I drink? Did I even drink? _She doesn't remember having a lot, doesn't remember much, actually, so whatever, fuck it. Sickness rises like a geyser in her stomach, so she falls against the door and forces the slimy bile back down her throat. Adamaris is still sitting on the bed and he laughs at her. This makes Dragon mad but she ignores it, stuffing the emotion deep down along with the bile. Her hands are clumsy on the too-shiny doorknob as she fumbles to get it open.

"The door is the easy part. Next come the stairs." Adamaris warns in a mock-wisdom tone.

The stairs are a bitch. Dragon faceplants nearly a half dozen times, saved only by the cool and collected Adamaris, who steadies her every time her legs decide this is an awesome time to just stop working. Dragon honestly can't remember much from last night, but part of her doesn't want to remember it. And she's actually sort of cool with that.

Once completing the stairs, Dragon hovers around in the living room while Adamaris parades off like the biggest drunken idiot who ever existed. The pants he's wearing, as well as the shirt, aren't his own but are tight and ripped so Dragon figures he doesn't care much. Taking a look around, the room is littered with wasted bodies, sleeping off a rough night of festivities. The couches, chairs, even the floor and under the coffee table are covered with napping teenagers. Dragon spots a clock, the bright red digital reading an incredibly late 1:30 in the afternoon.

"Yeah, great time, man. Sorry about your bottle openers, I'm sure they'll turn up."

"I'm fucking pissed I lost those…..glad you had fun, dude see you next week."

A happy-looking Adamaris and exhausted Charlie come back into the living room, and by now Dragon wants to sleep in her own bed or at least take a yearlong shower to wash off the boy smell. Yet she keeps her mouth shut as the two guys do that stupid 'bro hug' thing before Adamaris takes Dragon's hand and leads her past the sleepovers and out the door. The Camaro is parked in the driveway, perfectly black and gleaming in the radiant sunlight.

The second Dragon opens the door and flounders in, she is eternally grateful for tinted windows. And sunglasses. Dragon places the aviators perfectly over her eyes and the resulting extra darkness pleases every inch of her tired body. Adamaris is less than graceful when he gets in, and Dragon instantly senses something is wrong. It's in his body language- the stiffening of his shoulders, the taunt lines on his face, the way his pupils still have not diminished to normal size. Maternal instinct –or whatever it is- kicks in and Dragon reaches over to place the palm of her hand against his forehead. The rush of heat and slick of sweat is alarming, burning almost, and Dragon jerks back as if she got 3rd degree burns.

"Hey, are you alright? You're burning up." Dragon says, her voice breaking with a slight edge of hangover-induced hysteria. Adamaris grunts and starts the engine, the primordial bellow of the machine causing both kids to flinch.

"I'm fine, a little hangover that's it." Adamaris reassures, but he isn't smiling and his right hand is tight and fisted across his stomach. Dragon leans back in the seat, worry boiling in her as the air conditioner blows painfully cold wind into her face. Every now and then she glances over at Adamaris, who continues to wiggle and writhe in his seat, as if something has a hold on his spine and is trying to yank it out through his back. The ride back seems longer than normal but they finally pull into the driveway of their apartment. Adamaris kills the engine and buries his face in his hands for a moment. His gold nail polish is picked to Hell, and there's a scratch on the back of his index finger.

"You need more sleep. Now. C'mon." Dragon orders, playing Mother as she slides out of the car, her gait still a little lopsided as she opens the driver door and helps Adamaris out. A shower would probably be great somewhere in the near future but for now, Dragon wants him up and in the cool dark of their apartment. Her key is lodged deep in her pocket but she fishes it out, Adamaris breathing heavy on her neck as she forces the key in, but to no avail.

"What the actual fuck." Dragon spits, eyes almost cross-eyed from exhaustion and recent everything. And with her luck as of late, the key falls from her fingers to ding onto the ground, and Dragon stares at it hopelessly, wishing for some Ancient Zoidian magic that she could use to telepathically get the key back up to her level.

Out of nowhere, the door suddenly bangs out, two inches from killing Dragon's face with cheap metal. Standing over seven feet tall in the doorway, Dragon lifts her head way up to the meet the snarling yellow optics of her most beloved and trusted partner on the face of this wonderful planet. Griffon. Her Organoid. He is not happy to see them, judging from the demonic growl on his lips, the anger flaming in his eyes. The yellow bits on his body are painfully bright, like miniature suns that Dragon wants to put out forever.

"I dropped my key." Dragon squeaks, looking a hot mess with her sick boytoy –who Griffon holds a crazy hatred against- and coming home without a word of where she would be. Griffon turns his sleek horned head to Adamaris, his optics making it clear what he wants to do to the boy, his silver claws making it obvious what he wants to rip out and away. Dragon holds Adamaris a little tighter, and while he was silent and dozing before, he jerks awake now and sees Griffon, giving him a tiny smile.

"Hey Griffon. Mind letting us in?" Adamaris asks sheepishly. Griffon snarls, and holds the door open with his long tail. Dragon mouths a thank you to him as she starts the trek back upstairs. The Organoid snaps his teeth.

_You smell! Not just like whatever you humans drink, but you smell like him! _Griffon assaults Dragon's mind and she cringes from the harsh, loud words ringing in her skull. _You can't keep doing this to me, I thought you were killed. But no, worse, sleeping around with this diseased mutt! _Griffon is yelling, his tail lifts to smack Adamaris on the back of the knee and he almost drops like a rock. Dragon can tell that he's getting the same verbal beatdown from Wolfgang, his Genosaurer Maxis.

"Griffon! I'm 18! I can do what I want _leave me alone!_" Dragon screams the second they reach the top of the stairs. Griffon stops behind her, head cocked to the side. Dragon never yells at him and while his face betrays no emotion, Dragon knows that he's shocked. "I'm fine, okay? Really. I'm fine. Go away," She continues, breathing hard, head pounding like drills. Griffon scrunches his noise, but obeys without a word and ducks into the kitchen. "That goes for you too, Wolfgang! And you, Fenrir!" Dragon hollers, calling out the Maxis and even Adamaris' own Organoid, the solitary wolf, Fenrir.

"They are all so dramatic." Adamaris laughs quietly. Dragon rolls her eyes in agreement, trudging down the hallway to his room and dumping him on the bed. The contact makes Adamaris let out a choked grunt and he rolls onto his side. Dragon draws the shade closed.

"Are you going to be okay?" She questions.

"I'll be fine, mom. Go get some sleep yourself." Adamaris yawns, waving Dragon off casually. Sleep does sound fantastic but Dragon knows she has shit to do.

"Can't. Gotta check on Rigel. Have to pay for the repair if he's done."

"You work too hard. Should have gotten Griff or Fen to do some of the work," Adamaris is struggling to stay awake now but Dragon sees the way his eyelids are falling. "They're Organoids, they gotta do something."

Dragon heads for the door. "Didn't want them to try and rebuild Rigel, he was hurt too bad." She answers. Adamaris scoffs.

"Eve, why don't you ever let anyone else do something for you?" Adamaris calls to her from the dredges of sleep, but Dragon tunes him out.

* * *

Griffon and Fenrir watch her with silent optics, yellow and blue, as she shuffles from the kitchen to the living room and back again. Every time Dragon raises her voice, Griffon snarls and bares those sharp silver teeth. Fenrir has his head on his huge paws, quiet to the ordeal.

"That's an insane! I said I only wanted the Blade Liger's body intact, I didn't need anything else." Dragon is pacing, faced with a huge 10,000 Gallo fee to get Rigel all fixed up. Dragon doesn't have this money but the mechanic on the other end is adamant about the price. The crap he's spewing about 'leaving no job left undone' has Dragon feeling 20 years older. "I clearly stated I only wanted the body intact. No rerouting, no new glass, no new blades, I didn't need any of that." Dragon is struggling to keep herself in check, so she doesn't notice Fenrir suddenly look up and trot off to Adamaris' room. Griffon watches him go but doesn't say a word.

Dragon didn't call right away. She ate a whole sleeve of crackers while explaining to Wolfgang that yes, everyone is okay and then fell asleep for 4 hours before Griffon nudged her awake. Now it was almost 6:15 and Adamaris was still sleeping.

"What if you undid everything that I didn't ask for?" Dragon pleaded. "How long until I need to pay? What! That isn't long enough for me, please, can you do another week? I need to sign up for another battle…."

Fenrir is running. His paws are thunder strikes on the floor. _Dragon! _He booms, the deeper timber of his voice scaring her into dropping the phone. She looks at him, demanding an answer, only to take in his scared face for something serious having happened.

"What's wrong?" She asks, heartbeat already accelerating to an unhealthy thump, ignoring the phone and the questioning voice of the mechanic as she follows after Fenrir.

_Adamaris. There's something in his head, it's hurting him. And something in his back is killing him. Wolfgang feels it too, he can't move._ Normally, Fenrir is the most untalkative Organoid ever, but Dragon is stricken by the panic in his mind speak and she can't throw the door to Adamaris' room open fast enough. Fenrir piles in after her, and even Griffon stands guard at the door, having hung up the phone first.

Adamaris is twisted in the sweat-dampened sheets. His skin is blushing with an unholy crimson, from his face to his neck and even to his belly. Plastered to his face and neck with sweat, his hair hangs limp and the bangs shiver along with the rest of his shuddering body. His mouth gasps open, tongue dangling from his mouth with teeth marks bloody in it from where his jaw snapped shut. The steely eyes are cloudy and murky, filmy and reduced to a sorrowful gray. His fingers clamp and twist in the sheets, his entire body contorted painfully, yet those deadened eyes won't hold onto Dragon's, and Adamaris' focus keeps slipping.

Dragon's blood runs cold and Fenrir claws the floor in worry. "Go get my phone." Dragon asks, trying to keep her voice level as she sits on the bed. Adamaris makes noises like his spine was finally ripped loose vertebrate by aching vertebrate, then attempted to be fitted through his small intestine. Dragon leans closer, and takes his hand, sweaty with a weak grip but still there, and leans forward to brush the bangs from his face.

"What happened?" Is all she thinks to say, the fear dulling all her sentences, even her speech, numbing her. "Fever? Atlas, you need to tell me what you drank last night." She lets go of his hands and places them both on either side of his cheeks, stilling his face long enough so his eyes finally meet hers. His body agonizes, curving and curling like a snake without a head.

"Y-you were t-there. You s-saw me." Adamaris chokes out, and Dragon wants to throw up, or cry, but Fenrir rushes back with a cell phone light in his jaws. The hospital is dialed before Dragon even has the phone fully in her hands. Griffon, who Dragon didn't hear leave, comes back with a washcloth that he places gently on Adamaris' forehead.

_I figure if he dies, your negative thoughts will kill me too._ The Organoid shrugs, using one claw to deftly maneuver Adamaris' tongue back into his mouth so his teeth won't gnaw it to pieces. Fenrir whines, ears folded back tightly against his head as Dragon curls up around the phone and gives all the information she can to the dispatcher.

_And I think we've dealt with quite enough death by now. _Griffon murmurs, instantly shielding Dragon's thoughts and even deafening her when Adamaris' spine undulated and tore his important wires, letting out a screech so loud that even the birds out on the roof craned their heads downward to see what was the matter.

* * *

The Doctor –Dragon didn't remember his name when he introduced himself, so she called him just that- quietly closed the door after pumping Adamaris so full of painkillers and morphine, even Wolfgang slumbered a deep sleep in the Hanger. Somewhat detached but still kinda with it, Dragon nodded along and pretended to know what The Doctor was explaining to her.

"Chloral Cyadine is a very serious drug. It has no taste and dissolves completely into liquid. Aside from fever, muscle spasms, and vomiting, larger amounts of it can burn the stomach lining and even rot the spinal cord. It's not the sort of powder you see being swapped on the street corner, but people call it Teeth since the intact pills look like little baby teeth." The Doctor explained, voice muffled behind a thick and professional-looking mustache.

"Will he be okay?" Dragon asks, her number one concern. The Doctor sighs and looks over the report he wrote, causing Dragon's heart to sink even further. She's shaking, eyes wide, Fenrir standing guard and Griffon looking neutral.

"Well, I have him on several different painkillers but Chloral Cyadine is not easily taken care of. There's two pills he needs to take orally, both in the morning and at night. He can only sleep on his side and this next part is up to you, but massage of the spine and stomach area helps relieve stress. Then there are two more pills that will rebuild the spine and his stomach. He should be on those four for at least two weeks." The Doctor rattled off.

Rebuild. Dragon closed her eyes. Everything was falling apart and everything needed to be rebuilt. Who would rebuild her when she eventually started to tear at the seams? Dragon opened her eyes. "How much will this cost?"

The Doctor gave her a puzzled stare. "Do you have health insurance?" He asked. Dragon bit her lip.

"Uhm. No." It was a matter Dragon brought up several times, but Adamaris always dismissed it, saying things like; "Honey, we are too young for that." Now look what happened.

"Oh. The cost for the pills alone will be around 1,000 Gallos, and add in the cost of my visit and the needed supplies, I would guess around 8,000 Gallos total. You'll get a bill in a bit. Any other questions?"

Dragon let that sink in. 8,000 Gallos. Tacked onto the renting bill, food and all that, plus Rigel, she didn't have that sort of money. Griffon's optics flash in worry and Dragon's hates that, the knowing that her Organoid is playing housewife when he should be out being an Organoid, a creature of unlimited ferocity. The Doctor is still waiting for an answer, hands folded in his lap, looking like he's seen this sort of fuckery too many times in his life.

"Thank you, thank you so much for coming." Dragon speaks up, extending her hand to him. Tiny tremors race like ants around her fingers and no matter how hard Dragon tries, she cannot still the busy activity her body is creating. The Doctor smiles a small smile and returns the shake.

"He'll be fine. And so will you." He promises. Dragon really wants to believe him.

* * *

The next few hours are stressful. Not only does Dragon check on Adamaris every 10 minutes, but she has phone calls to make and bills to shift through. Plus, she's tired as Hell and feeling 20 years older. A year ago, Dragon was so on top of the world, even the gods above respected her. She owned a legion of Zoids and a handful of followers; she was a _religion. _So much power and money, but Dragon left it all to start here. Sometimes she hated her choices.

_Relax, Dragon. Want me to go get Rigel? You won't have to pay. _Griffon jokes, baring those fearsome teeth. Dragon rolls her eyes and goes back to telling Jenna that everything will be all right. Jenna is Adamaris' closest friend and a not-so-secret millionaire, her father owning one of the largest Zoid production companies outside the Empire and Republic. Dragon isn't quite to the point of begging yet and keeps their financial firestorm in the dark.

"No Jenna, you don't have to come all the way here. I'll keep you up to date," Dragon says. She fiddles with a piece of paper towel she snagged from the kitchen, twisting it beneath her fingers. "If anything happens I'll call you. Okay, but don't tell his mom or dad. Can you get in touch with Leo?" The paper towel leaves a trail behind Dragon as she walks away.

Ready to hang up and marathon phone calls again, Jenna begins again. "Dragon, you sound so guilty right now. None of this is your fault." She says, gentle but still with a punch. Dragon cradles the phone, imagines ghosts in her house, and ignores the sharp roar that rips from Griffon's throat.

"Yeah, I know." Dragon answers, hanging up. The word LIAR feels burned across her shoulders, and the ghosts hover by her ear for a second longer until they fade away.

Adamaris won't take the pills. He spits them back up, hacking at the severe size of the things. Dragon doesn't blame him; the pills are huge, like pills they give to Organoids or something. He twists in the sheets, writhing, stinking up the whole room with the rancid, stale scent of feverish sickness. It isn't his fault, but taking the pills would make him feel better and for some reason, he refuses to comply. The pills are spitty and starting to lose their shape, enzymes melting the protective case that holds in the miracle liquid.

Dragon is starting to lose patience.

"It's either I give these to you, or Griffon will shove them down your throat." Dragon warns. She pops a second pill behind Adamaris' teeth but he chucks it back up again, the effort clearly draining him more than it should. Dragon signs and leans back on the bed. In another life, when Dragon was a whole lot more of a bitch, she would have struck his spine until he cried, and then made him take the pills. Back then, her compassion level was pretty much a moot point. But now she couldn't. Dragon leans forward, one hand enclosing around Adamaris' throat and applying enough pressure to make him gasp and sputter, tongue lolling out of his open jaw.

"Open wider. I can make you take these unconscious. Your choice," Dragon threatens, four wet pills resting sloppy and gross in her hand. Adamaris, to the point of suffocation, groans and complies, his mouth hanging open on a hinge wide enough for Dragon to let all four tumble down his throat. "Was that so bad? Ra, you act like a 2-year-old." Dragon says, releasing his throat and rubbing small circles at the base of his spine. Adamaris shies away at first but gradually moves into it, eyes slowly drifting shut.

"I could wish this pain onto you, but I won't 'cause that's mean," He grunts. The muscles in his body aren't working, all creaky and lopsided, head pounding hard as Zoid gunfire, hair standing on edge. "Eve, I am _so_ fucked up right now, darling. Like, I'm seeing stars." His tongue is somewhere between wet and dry, huge and fuzzy, and everything is tinted a gorgeous shade of blue that puts the glassy surface of Windeen to shame.

"The Doctor put you on a lot of painkillers. Like, a lot. Enough to kill a lesser man." Dragon jokes, moving up to rub another wacked-out vertebrate. Fenrir is sleeping quietly in the room and the sun is going down. Everything seems so strangely peaceful that Dragon is willing to let it keep her company for an hour or two. Adamaris is calming down, his heartbeat at a more sane level, his spine no longer trying so hard to make it's own personal freedom.

"And Eve know no man is less than me," Adamaris answers, lifting a hand to flair it around, losing interest halfway through and letting it drop limply to the bed. He's quiet for a moment. "Fuck. I never said sorry. I'm sorry, Dragon, for doing this to you. Shit, you should have just left me there today. You had like, this great and awesome life before you came here and-"

Dragon opens her mouth. Adamaris does this sometimes, sulks and moans about the "awful life" he is forcing Dragon into. "Atlas, your girl is showing. She starts, but Adamaris wriggles enough to poke her, causing his own waning pain to spike up again.

"Shush, I'm talking. You said you only wanted to stay a few weeks but now I'm making you stay here. This is like those old Earth fairytales, you know? Only-" And his mouth quirks up at this, a genuine smile despite the drugs and pain. "In this fairytale, you're my princess and I'm your Dragon."

Dragon stops. Adamaris is losing out to the drugs, his will to remain awake drifting away. Dragon brushes hair from his cheek. This was nothing short of a hectic couple of days and Dragon aches from running around. What's worse is knowing that Adamaris has guilt eating away at him right now, like Dragon had so many months ago. The want to be stronger but unable to do so physically. Dragon wonders if this is what's it like to be on the opposite end of life, to not be powerful but simply content, living day to day with a few troubles. Dragon likes this new life and she smiles down at what helped her and fixed her up.

"Your more like my knight in shining armor."

* * *

**A/N- **Yes, I enjoy causing my characters pain and fucking with their very mental existence. Hoping this chapter didn't entirely ruin your expectations of me because hey, I gotta leave something for chapter 2! Haha.

Comment and stuff. If you want. Flames/retardation will be meet with a punch to the face. Or an equally fire flame back. I don't want to break my Macbook..._Pro._


	2. Pt 2

**A/N-** Holy crap you made it through Pt. 1? Good for you! Onto Pt. 2. I'm running out of things to put in these A/N and I really don't think you want to hear me bitch about my roommate because who I am to take away your time from reading this vastly entertaining piece of literature? This is when you can really tell I didn't feel like writing; there are some good parts but most of it is colorless droning because omg do I want this to be done. I also love the phrase "buttcrack of dawn". I use it regularly no joke.

If anybody needs explaining on how Dragon has a Hummer and Adamaris a Camaro, drop me a line since I'm lazy and won't waste the space here. Woot.

I just realized that FF doesn't do the page breaks. Fuck you. Seriously, guys? Anyway I might miss them in my recheck so I apologize. Dang.

* * *

Dragon has the most annoying ringtone _ever._ It's some song from forever ago, a buzzy jangle with stupid lyrics, and Dragon flails around in desperate search to shut the thing up. Dragon isn't much of a "Live by the phone, die by the phone" type of girl, but she always has it on or near her, so….

Her hands make purchase on the black Voyager and, bleary-eyed and heavy-lidded, flips it open and presses talk before even glancing at the caller. "Hey." She says, borderline knocked-out, the sun barely peeking through her tightly drawn blinds. Its too fucking early for this, and Griffon murmurs tired anger from his spot curled up on the floor.

"Okay, Jenna calls me a few hours ago saying Adamaris is on his deathbed or something and I call you, but you don't pick up. I want some answers, kid, or I swear to the great Eve above I will come over there and key your stupid, ugly, ghetto-ass Hummer." The caller rants and Dragon is wide-awake before the third word. Dragon loves Leonardo, Adamaris' older and dumb-as-scrap-metal brother, but he's _such _a jock, total meathead, and Dragon does not enjoy being yelled at the buttcrack of dawn. She places the Voyager away from her ear, grimacing.

"Where are you now?" Dragon asks, knowing Leo would never key her Hummer, unless he wanted Hell and a half to be released on his face. She fights her way out of bed, the blankets unwilling to let go, and barely misses' faceplanting over Griffon's body. The Organoid lifts his head with a snort, watching with humor as Dragon flops her way out the door.

"About 10 minutes away from breaking down your door. So unlock that bitch and tell my dying princess brother to do me the honor of waking up, at least a little bit." Leo rants. Dragon bumbles into the kitchen, fighting back a yawn as she readies the coffee marker. Adamaris owns a coffee place, and the coffee is awesome and always in bulk so the extras happen to blissfully linger around the household. The smell of French vanilla is already stirring Dragon's senses awake.

"Uhm, are you in your Godkaiser?" Dragon questions, worried about room in the small attached Hanger. There's Wolfgang, plus a Shadow Fox, Bloodler, and a Matrix Dragon. "Oh never mind, Rigel is still at the shop."

"Right, right. How did that battle go, anyway?" Leo says, changing the subject. He's a battling man through and through, born, bred, and bled to fight in the arena.

"I lost."

"Sucks for you. Oh well there'll be others. Why use a Blade Liger? Use that Matrix Dragon, what a beast."

"There are different levels, Leo, you know that."

"Well shit on my dick you're right. Sorry. I'll be there soon, anyway. Don't let my bro die, I trust you'll give him so awesome CPR if he goes under, right?" Leo jokes, and just when Dragon is about to bitch him out, the phone goes dead.

_Why does nobody say bye anymore?_ Griffon asks, plodding into the kitchen.

"Things change. Leo is coming for a visit, which means he wants to beat me up for killing his brother," Dragon says, watching the coffee idle and splash, hissing and steaming. "Griffon, I can't afford all this."

_No problem. Sign up for another battle. A bigger one. Want me to go to the arena and look some up for you? _Griffon offers, gesturing with long and pointed claws. Dragon fixes him a funny look.

"Dude, you are such a housewife."

_Somebody has to be._ The Organoid retorts. He brushes past down the hallway and stomps out the door, leaving Dragon with one last sound of powerful wings opening and beating. Not a second later, just when Dragon starts to pour the coffee, the front door opens loud with such a bang, she feels the entire apartment complex wake up as one unit. Which sucks, because the people downstairs are like, 90-year-old war veterans or something like that.

Leo wastes no time running up the stairs, wearing nothing short of huge ass combat boots that cause the whole floor to rumble like a herd of stampeding Dark Horns.. Dragon can just imagine the arguments she'll have to suffer through. Leo pokes his head into the kitchen, all gray eyes and short, spiked blonde hair the color of a Zaber Fang's armor. "Yo, kid. Your Organoid damn near chopped off my head but that's okay. Where's Adamaris?" He starts, yet his gaze lingers on the coffee. Dragon starts to feel oddly lax for some reason that she cannot explain.

She holds out the cup. "You want some coffee?"

"Is that French vanilla? Fuck yeah!" Leo springs closer, jumpy and twitchy, teeth showing in a smile as Dragon pours him a mug full of coffee goodness. "Don't think this is gonna stop me from hating you if I find out my brother will die or become physically retarded." Leo adds, taking a careful sip.

Dragon wrinkles her nose. "He's in his room."

"Ah, of course." And off Leo trudges, leaving dusty boot marks on the floor that Dragon winces at. She sits at the weak and pathetically rocky kitchen table, mug before her, and waits for Leo to return. Which doesn't take long at all. Not ten minutes pass and Leo is back in the kitchen, hovering around for a moment before taking the seat opposite Dragon.

"I've seen him worse. What a baby," Leo scoffs, tipping back in the chair and sipping the coffee. "So, kid, how you paying for this?" His tone becomes gentle, eyes gone serious, and Dragon looks down at her coffee mug.

"Haven't really figured that part out yet." She admits. Leo signs and scratches the back of his head.

"Okay, listen. How about a battle?"

"Griffon just went to look at what's posted."

"I know what he'll come back with. There's a pretty huge match coming up soon and signs-ups start today. Three Zoid teams, anything goes, no rules match. Organoids are allowed, any custom weaponry, any size Zoid. You should look into that. Hell, Brutus and I will join you."

Dragon feels her spirits lift a tiny bit. Leo's Godkaiser is a pretty big deal, and he's not even a bad pilot himself. "What's the prize money?" She asks, not wanting to deepen her own grave by risking it in a battle with a bad payoff.

"50,000 Gallos. Not bad, right? Fuckin' free-for-all," Leo smirks. "Hold up, we still need one person. And Adamaris is friends with no real pilots. Sure, Jenna has a Lidier and Troy has a Spinosnapper but how the fuck will that help us?"

"Your dad pilots a Gojulas Giga, so maybe we could borrow it?"

"Are you on drugs? Dad will _never_ loan out Nuke, and I would have to tell him why we need him to win this battle. My parents don't need to know about Adamaris' getting sick," Leo leans back further in the chair, deep in thought, and Dragon stares quietly at the cooled coffee. Minutes past slowly between them.

"I got it," Leo speaks suddenly, causing Dragon to jump a bit from the death of silence. "I know a guy. He's great, real cool and everything but he's a fucking amazing pilot. Like, the real deal. This kid can take down Wolfgang no sweat and still have time for lunch on the way home." He says grandly, all animation and infectious excitement. Dragon leans forward, interested, his ecstatic joy getting the best of her, too.

"He's in a match today, I think. The closer stadium, whatever the fuck it's called….uh, Seven Blades Stadium? Stupid name. Anyway, go look him up. Names' Alejandro King. Tell him Leon sent you, and you need a partner for a very important match."

Dragon is hopeful. "What does he pilot?"

"Oh right. Blade Liger Mirage."

* * *

Griffon lifts his head against the wind, watching the city landscape blow by them as Romeo the Shadow Fox speeds down the street, leaving Gordos and Rev Raptors in the dust. His nimble body is an asset, a part of the wind as he effortlessly lopes toward the stadium. Dragon is at the controls, Leo having stayed behind to watch over Adamaris and give him the morning pills.

_What if this guy is a first-class douchebag and wants all the prize money? This is after he even agrees to hear us out. _Griffon says, ducking out of the wind. It's loud, even for an Organoid who doesn't even have legit ears.

"Don't be so negative." Dragon answers, pretty out of it and focusing only on what she has to do. Romeo halts outside the stadium, and Dragon leaves him to his own devices as she carefully eases out and climbs down. Griffon is on the ground before she even opens the cockpit.

_I'm being realistic._

"Then stop…being so realistic."

_One of us has to be._

Dragon grimaces and together, girl and machine walk through the gates. Dragon flashes her battle pass, free ticket to all matches, and she's ushered through and sent up to one of the higher seats, where Organoids can fit. The arena is jam-packed and loud, thousands of people screaming with a noise like a Gil Vader's roar. Dragon fights to the top section of the stands, Griffon squeezing in behind her amidst the angry cries of onlookers who quickly shut up upon seeing Griffon in all his scary glory.

"Let's see if this guy lives up to his hype." Dragon muses.

There's a shiny white Konig Wolf, armed with Missile Pods and a DSR-S Sniping Rifle. The canine is snarling, fangs bared, body poised and tense with optics set dead ahead on the Zoid standing on the opposite end. Dragon ignores the Wolf and watches the Blade Liger.

It is a Mirage. Only the red bits are a deep, thoughtful, shimmery sort of blue with a glittery look to them, like stars at night. The Blade Liger is armed to the teeth, not only with standard weaponry but with a shit load of extras on the surface. One Assault Gatling Unit, Attack Booster set, and even missile pods loaded on the shoulders. Despite the addition firepower, the Liger walks forward with the grace and elegance that all feline Zoids claim. Dragon holds her breath in sheer amazement.

The battle starts in a second.

The Konig fires a half dozen missiles, all of them zooming on a heated path for the Liger. Dragon freezes. But the Blade Liger Mirage hops away, starts to run, and the Assault Gatling fires with deadly accuracy so the missiles fly into each other and blow up, shredded by bullets. The Konig Wolf snarls and takes off, DSR-S flipping into a firing position and the bullets shoot out of it at hundreds of miles per hour. The Blade Liger does well to its name, and dances away with a series of simple leaps, as if its body isn't physical.

_He knows how to move his Zoid, even when weighed down like that._ Griffon says, a bit of surprise in his words.

The Blade Liger Mirage spins around on one paw, missile pods opening. A flurry of them fly out and the Konig tries to shoot them down but while he's busy with those, the blades flip forward and the Attack Boosters hum with charging energy. Seconds later, two thick slugs break away from the barrels. The Konig, shocked and confused, flails backwards but it's too late. The beams connect solidly with the canine's chest and the blow sends it toppling backwards, head over paws. The Zoid crumples on its side, chest sparking with blue electricity. Yet it refuses to give up and staggers to its paws, growling past clenched jaws.

It's barely up before the Assault Gatling starts spinning, bullets chewing up the Konig's side. But not in any old place. Dragon realizes where exactly those bullets are headed.

"Oh shit-!"

The bullets impact the still-open missile pods. The crowd gasps in unison as the entire left side of the Konig explodes in a fiery mess, the howling drowned out by explosions, the Zoid masked by splinters of white armor flying, missiles going off like fireworks that shoot up toward the sky. The smoke is heavy and sluggish, like a monster in it's own.

The Blade Liger Mirage gallops to the other side, gait confident as the Konig struggles to find itself. Dragon can't see through the smoke, and neither can the other spectators, but all of them are thinking the same thing; nothing could survive a blow like that. This is the part of battling Dragon hates. The part that Adamaris and all of them refuse to watch, the killing of Zoids:

"_Its stupid. The war has been over and Zoids shouldn't be used for war anymore." Adamaris said, shaking his head when a bandaged pilot came in earlier that day for a coffee. Dragon was sitting at the counter._

"_Zoid battles are a way of life here. You can't stop people from fighting. Its what we do."_

"_Mmmm. This life we live."_

_Dragon rests her head on the counter. "Its good for us. Gives us money, something to do, makes the Zoids have a purpose. What would they do if we didn't have arena matches?"_

"_Earth doesn't have Zoids. They get along just fine."_

"_They fight. All. The. Time."_

"_But they don't have huge mechanical animals do it for them. I know Zoids are weapons and everything but it's wrong to use them for this. They die, and people die. For what? A sport."_

"_You know, if you entered Wolfgang in a match and won, you would get serious money."_

"_Yeah, and go against everything I believe in."_

"_So?"_

_Adamaris fixes her with a sad look. "Oh, Dragon." He sighs._

Radar helps, and the Liger finds the Konig Wolf in record time, leaping into the smoke's belly with golden blades drawn and glowing. Their presence, a shining beacon, does away with the smoke in time for everyone to see the Liger's fluid movement at command of its pilot, blade swinging low in a pendulum motion to decapitate the Konig Wolf at the neck. The head spins off, probably giving the poor pilot a serious case of motion sickness.

The Zoid plants a firm paw on the dead body and roars a triumphant roar to the sky above. The crowd echoes, some standing on their feet and clapping, cheering, and everything is so loud that it makes Dragon feel queasy.

_Not bad. That took less than five minutes. He is very good. _Griffon admits. Dragon hops to her feet as the Blade Liger leaves through the opened gate and Godos workers hurry to clean up the Konig. It's a familiar sight and Dragon turns away, blocking out the memory of her own dreadful loss the other day.

_How do you plan on meeting this guy?_

"I have no idea."

_Good plan._

Griffon bends his head and pushes Dragon onto his back. The Organoid roars, scaring everyone a good thirty feet around him. Dragon grins and shrugs an apology. _Lucky for you, I have one. But its not the best idea so hold on tight._ Griffon warns and his wings pop open, all synthetic feathers. Dragon clutches around his neck as people around them run in terror, yelling about 'the feral Organoid'. Dragon smells jail time, but the scent is left behind as Griffon takes off, wings flapping, people loosing their hats and toupees and their cool as the Organoid flies down to the arena.

"Griffon!" Dragon yelps, wind eating at her. This is not cool, borderline illegal as Griffon sails downward, giving a good hard flap of his wings so he barely makes it into the holding area as the gate behind them closes. He hits the ground on all fours, wings wide to his sides, and Dragon still wrapped around his neck like a dead fur coat. She never got use to flying.

General panic ensures.

People start yelling, cursing, and Dragon shrinks a bit at the sight of mean, angry faces coming at her from all directions. Griffon gets to his feet and snarls, tail lashing, claws extended and vicious. Dragon is about ready to look for an exit when the Liger's cockpit opens with a pressuring hiss and a figure leans over the edge.

"Would the bunch of you shut the fuck up? For Eve's sake you act like that fuckin' terrorist Hiltz got reborn or something. Chill your balls and get back to work before I beat your asses into the cement!"

Silence. The workers stare at the figure for a moment, but only a moment and then they are hurrying about like the Godos workers, checking the Liger's armor and weapons systems, shining it up again and testing the gears. Dragon peels herself off of Griffon's neck; head cocking to the side as the young man easily descends from the Liger's cockpit. He strides toward her, with massive amounts of what Dragon would dare call _swagger_. His hair is roughly unkempt, the color of Ackyord Plains in the fall; a glimmering beauty of brown gold and red with bangs that reaches just above his eyes.

Those eyes. They were the same intense, intelligent blue as on his Zoid. And they were deep as fuck, so blue that the pupil and iris nearly blended into one mini little cosmos. The guy stepped closer, a joke on his face, as if Dragon were some stupid fan and this was all-

Griffon snarled. The guy –Dragon was betting this was Alejandro- stops suddenly, lifting his hands to either side of his face in the 'surrender position'. Even though he doesn't look serious, Dragons sees mischief playing across those starry eyes and face. "Whoa there, boy. You came onto me, I'm just seeing what's up so you two don't get arrested for whatever crap the law will cook up this time."

Dragon pushes at Griffon. "Grif, shush, please." She urges quietly. Begrudgingly, the Organoid quiets down but still glances about with unease, his tail raised and wings still open. Dragon rushes to explain.

"My name is Dragon Koradaku, this is Griffon, and I'm guessing your Alejandro King because my friend, Leonardo Armani, told me to come here and talk to you about maybe signing up for a freestyle tournament. I really need money because Leon's brother, Adamaris, is my roommate and he got really sick and I can't afford to pay the bill. Plus, I'm a Blade Liger pilot too. I use to have a Mirage. But not anymore, and my new Blade Liger is in the shop and I can't afford to get it. So I need you to please, please sign up for this battle even though I'm this complete stranger askin-"

His hands, which were previously folded up across his chest, come back to 'hold on'. "Whoa there," He chuckles, and it's a nice noise, not unfriendly but the laugh you would make if your friend tries to push the 'pull' door instead of doing it correctly. "Slow down, please, you're making my head hurt, sweetheart. Slower this time."

Dragon inhales and wills herself calm. Start from the beginning. "Are you Alejandro King?"

"Mmhmm. One and only. Best damn pilot on this continent."

_Geez, listen to that ego. No wonder he's skinny, he's probably all hot air._

Dragon gives a glare. "Okay, cool. Do you know a Leonardo Armani?"

"Leon! Of course I know him. We've done a few battles together and his dad helped me out a few times."

"Awesome. His brother, Adamaris, is my roommate and he's really sick. I don't have the money to pay the bill." Dragon continues, fully unaware that her heart is beating at a moronic pace. Alejandro doesn't seem to notice, his arms crossed at his chest again and one brow raised.

"Uh-huh."

"There's a freestyle match going on in two days. Three Zoid teams with a 50,000 Gallo prize. Leon and I are going to do it and I wanted to know if…you would be our third pilot." Dragon rushes out the last bit, a quick and puffed exhale. Alejandro rubs the back of his neck, looking at Dragon with utter confusion.

"This is a really weird proposition, sweetheart. What did you say your name was again?"

"Dragon Koradaku."

"And your friend?"

"Griffon."

Alejandro gazes up at the Organoid with interest. Griffon growls in return. "Nice. Organoids are piss ugly these days but this one has got some nice designs. Not one of those over-gunned mob killers."

Someone shouts; "You should talk, Allie!"

Alejandro whirls about, but not before Dragon sees sheer anger dying his face deep crimson. "Shut the fuck up!" He roars, and Dragon steps back in alarm at his heated tone. But when he turns back, he's completely normal.

"I get it, the Blade Liger Mirage is bad. Hasn't lost me a match yet, though." Alejandro stats smugly. Dragon usually has a thing against egomaniacs but she's really up shits creek here, so…..

"Will you do this for me?"

"Right. Prize money. How do we split up 50,000 evenly?"

Griffon leans down. Dragon senses the hatred lurking in his mind. _He only cares about money. Forget it, we can ask Jenna or someone else, even hire somebody. Not this heartless bag of dicks._

She really wants to giggle at that but Dragon keeps it cool. Her mouth is open to speak, negotiate something, but then Alejandro's already-dark eyes get even darker, like the stars went out, and he mumbles a swear under his breath.

"I'm sorry, Dragon. Totally slipped my mind for a second, the thing about your friend. My dad always told me I'm too fuckin' greedy for my own good." He gives her an uneasy smile, but Dragon can see the pain muddling his eyes, like greed and money are a bigger part of his life. She hastens to get back on his good side.

"No problem, we can sort it out."

"Forget it, I don't need the money at all. I'm sorry I even brought it up. But yeah sure, I'll do this for you. I'll sign up too." Alejandro says, setting most of Dragon's problem free for that one instant. She could hug the guy, she's so happy, her face breaking out in a silly, wide-mouthed grin.

"Ra, thank you so much. I can't say that enough. I mean, we could lose our apartment and geez, we still need to win and sign up, but damn, thank you-" Dragon starts rambling, but she's so _exhausted _and stressed out, to the point where everything starts going a little fuzzy and water appears in her line of vision. Griffon jumps, hissing in worry but Alejandro laughs and closes the last bit of space between them. He envelops Dragon in a huge, squeezing her in tight.

"Relax, sweetheart, everything is gonna be fine, I promise!"

Dragon believes him.

* * *

Alejandro had stuff to do, so Dragon scribbled out her address and phone number on a napkin before they parted ways. Watching the Blade Liger Mirage run off was painfully nostalgic and Dragon refuses to budge off of Romeo's head long after the Zoid is gone.

_Are you going to be okay?_

"Ra, Griffon, I just had a bit of a meltdown. I'm going to have a full head of gray hair by the time I'm 22," Dragon flumps dramatically on the gold cockpit. "He seems like a nice guy."

_He swears a lot. And has a bigger ego than a Berserk Fury. And, he's a tool. Complete tool._

"Griffon, you think every guy is a tool." A statement not far from the truth.

_This guy reeks of it. Piloting a Blade Liger like there aren't 6,000 of those around already._

Dragon slides into the cockpit. Griffon takes his place behind Romeo's head and the Shadow Fox is off, an inky black blur racing down the road. "He can help win this for us, though."

_I thought you liked to do things lone wolf style._

Dragon looks out the cockpit. She doesn't know if Adamaris is getting worse or getting better. Her Blade Liger is out of her hands and while she loves Seto, her Matrix Dragon, he won't cut it. She needs the help of her newest, strangest Zoid. But first, she needs to get all the _help _together.

"Not this time."

* * *

"Hey," Adamaris says quietly, his hand sliding over Dragon's. "What's up, pretty girl? You seem kinda tense."

"Understatement of the year but sure, I am tense. How are you?"

"Fine, fine. Tired. Back hurts a lot. I won't bore you with the rest," He stretches out leisurely, or tries too, and winces when something in his spine pops. "Gods above I hate this. I'm missing parties!" Adamaris whines, looking up at Dragon with watery puppy dog eyes. Dragon shakes her head and pats his hand comfortingly.

"Sorry man, I'm sure the heteros and the homos and the haters will be fine without your bony ass stealing all the booze."

"That's what you think. People love my presence! And my ass is _not_ bony."

Dragon really can't argue with a drugged up Adamaris, so she gives in and nods her head, agreeing that yes, Adamaris is a great dancer, has the best car ever, the best Zoid ever, makes some banging coffee, and his brother is an arrogant asshole-ish prick. The time sails by, Leo is stalking somewhere in the apartment or buying food, Griffon and Fenrir are napping, and Dragon and Adamaris are talking and talking.

"I'm going for a match in two days. It's a big one. 50,000 Gallo prize." Dragon starts, after seeing Adamaris' eyes start to close and his face go lax. He yawns.

"Oh. That's nice."

"Leo will be with me. And another guy he knows. Really great pilot."

"Are you using Seto?"

"No…." Dragon says softly. Adamaris opens his eyes, narrow slits, and lifts his head a bit. He's still weak, his back and stomach still causing problems; he can't walk unless an Organoid or human is there to lean on him. Those murky eyes are blooming with a new ferocity and Dragon mentally curses herself out.

"I know you aren't going in that Soul Tiger. That Zoid is messed up, something is wrong with it."

"Nothing is gonna happen."

"Dragon, it's _dangerous,_" Adamaris seethes, and he's suddenly trying to sit up the movement killing him and sweat breaks out on his face and neck. Dragon goes to try and push him down but he grabs both of her hands, pulling her face close to his. He smells of sickness. "I am not letting you pilot that monster."

Dragon holds her ground. "Trust me, Atlas, it's for you. Rosencrantz is a fine Zoid and you don't need to stress about it." She pulls away and Adamaris falls back onto the covers. He is pissed, and rolls onto his side, cringing.

"Whatever, fuck it. Take your homicidal cat and have a party." He spits with venom. Dragon sighs, rubs his shoulder, and leaves the room, feeling like she lost a lot more than she entered with.

* * *

Alejandro is wearing some Rated-R skinny jeans and a shirt that doesn't cover his navel. His boots, he boasts, are real authentic snakeskin imported from Earth. He has at least two rings on each finger and thick studded bracelets on his wrist. He wears a necklace with a bullet on the chain.

_Douchebag._ Griffon rumbles in Dragon's ear.

"Leon, man! How's it going?" Alejandro greets, shaking said pilot's hand. He gives Dragon a beaming smile that makes Griffon flex his claws and hiss a foul word. Dragon ignores him, gesturing to a seat at the rickety table adorned with water bottles and fresh fruit. "So tell me what the deal is."

Leon takes a gulp of water. "I signed us up for a battle. Zoids are completely anonymous."

"So we could end up fighting like, a Mad Thunder." Dragon points out. Leon rolls his eyes.

"No. This is freestyle but they have some rules. One Organoid and none of those death machines 'tards. First cocky little fuck who shows up in his dad's Gil Vader gets kicked out. And becomes a global laughing stock." Leon explains. Dragon relaxes; it's great to know that the illegal Zoids are still illegal in matches.

"I have my Blade Liger. Don't need nothing else," Alejandro speaks, his voice wet and dripping with satisfaction. He glances over at Dragon. "What about you, kid? I saw that Shadow Fox yesterday."

Dragon shakes her head. "I have a Soul Tiger."

Alejandro raises both brows. "Ooo, fancy." He replies, clearly impressed and Dragon blushes a little.

"Anyway, there are five brackets. Each bracket has two teams facing each other. The winner of that bracket gets the 50,000 G. Make sense?" Leon explains, looking at them like he's trying to explain the Alphabet to two-year-olds. Alejandro grunts in displeasure.

"We win our match, and that's it? No final sudden death round? Cheap."

Dragon picks at a spot on the table. Alejandro shifts his gaze to Griffon. "Oh right, the Organoid. Are we using this one, then?"

"Adamaris has an Organoid. Fenrir. Could we use Fen, Dragon?" Leon asks. Dragon looks at Griffon, who prides himself up and swishes his tail, making such a display of himself that Dragon chuckles a bit.

"Griffon is better. Fenrir works great on only canine Zoids but Grif is good all around." Dragon says, reaching up to pat her faithful friend on his nose. Alejandro claps his hands together.

"Awesome, I'm _so_ glad to be a part of this, really. I need to make a few check-ups on my Liger and then I'm all set." He declares, getting up out of his seat. Leon follows him.

"Gotta stop by the shop and get Brutus checked out, too. The flamethrower is shooting all lopsided so I think the barrel might be cracked a bit."

Dragon fidgets. "I'll stay here."

"What? Come with us, Dragon! Where's your Soul Tiger?" Alejandro yaps. He's loud and excited, and that's oddly likeable about him. The flare of battle is lighting up in his eyes.

"He wanders around a lot."

"Go check out Rigel, then. Make sure the owner hasn't like, sold him or turned him into scrap." Leo laughs. And then Dragon is forced to suffer through a painfully embarrassing recollection as Leo explains to Alejandro the whole thing that happened with Rigel.

Alejandro actually looks pretty mad, as if that was his own Blade Liger he lost ownership of. "Bull shit. Let's go, Dragon, we'll get your Liger back." He gestures to her to follow him as he starts off and away down the stairs. Dragon gives Leo a glare of bloody murder but he shoos her away.

"You can't force me to go. This is my house."

"Yeah, and that's your Blade Liger. Go get 'em." And Leo pushes and shoves and pokes until finally, Dragon gives up and follows in Alejandro's wake, Griffon plodding behind her.

* * *

It's awkward, to say the least, riding backseat in the Blade Liger Mirage, watching the city through the cockpit glass and trying not to laugh as Griffon sends her images of Alejandro's disembowelment. Clueless to the vicious and even frightening images going on in the other seat, Alejandro shifts through CDs of music, one hand leisurely on the controls.

_He's helping us._ Relax. Dragon tells her motherly Organoid, who thinks she's going to get like, stolen or murdered or some blasphemy like that.

_He's a Tool, with a capital T. And the sooner we are done with this, the sooner he can go back to frolicking in his world of 'nothing matters.'_

_Griffon, you smell like a Hater._

_Good, because I hate this guy._ And he punctuates that by whirling up a gory image of Alejandro getting squished by his own Liger's paw. Dragon rests her chin on her hand and goes back to watching the buildings move by them.

"This one?" Alejandro questions, halting the Zoid outside a pristine and medium-sized shop, a cute and chubby Genosaurer sitting happily on the sign over the Hanger. Dragon looks at the place, dread creeping up. She's only here to assure the owner that she will be back for her Liger. At some point.

"Yeah."

The Blade Liger dips its head, flawlessly clean cockpit glass hissing open. Dragon is surprised by the immaculate shape of the Zoid, painstakingly scrubbed and polished of any foreign pieces of dust, or anything really. Dragon never gives her Zoids such labor of love, preferring the standard power wash that comes at the battles. But Alejandro's Zoid is so clean and shiny she can practically see the sparkles shooting off its armor in the sun.

"Are you coming?" Alejandro gives her a weirded-out look, like he saw a juggling Organoid with six heads. Dragon blushes, realizes she was daydreaming, and quickly follows after his footsteps. Griffon isn't far behind.

Geno, the owner of the shop, is properly named. His own stock Genosaurer, stands guard inside the Hanger, but the guy himself is muscular and clean-shaven, his body thick but with the intelligent, keen gaze of a highly advanced predator. He looks up from the papers he's going through and must recognize Dragon. Geno grimaces as if he tasted something rotten.

"Hello sir, my friend here is looking to pick up her Blade Liger. Stock model, but gray and blue colors." Alejandro's voice is sweet with politeness, a sort of waxy tone that Dragon hasn't heard before. Then again, she hasn't known Allie for that long. But her brain registers this is just a façade. Geno snorts, but goes into a file cabinet and starts shifting through the papers. Dragon is nervous. Alejandro examines the Genosaurer, uninterested at first, but his eyes flicker with the loathing that only a Blade Liger pilot can muster up.

"Here ya go," Geno slaps down a laminated sheet detailing Rigel's problems; what needed to be fixed, what had to be bought and how much it cost. He fixes Dragon with a rough stare. "This is the price we discussed. 10,000 Gallos. No less." Geno leans on the countertop and Dragon backs up. Griffon bares his teeth. Alejandro however, seems to be considering the price. He scrutinizes the report until finally….

"The blades should be made of alloy, not steel. Steel isn't as strong and melts faster under the lasers. If the blades were alloy then yeah, 10,000 is a fair price but since this is cheap steel it should only 6,000." Alejandro says simply, like finding a 4,000 Gallo mistake was no big deal. Geno's jaw sorta drops.

"It's the same stuff."

"No, then it wouldn't be cheaper."

At the risk of being outted to the soldiers, Geno gives in and welcomes the price of 6,000 Gallos. Dragon bites her lip. She only has 2,000. Alejandro reaches into his pocket. At that sight, Dragon seizes up and shakes her head.

"I'm _not_ letting you pay for this." She says forcefully. Dragon hates when people do this, hates it even when it's the fabulously rich Jenna. The thought of being in debt to someone, much less someone she barely knows, is heartbreaking to the girl who could once afford anything and everything.

"Relax, sweetheart. Pay me back when we win." Alejandro retrieves a handful of bills and hands them to Geno, who counts the money with a practiced hand before asking Dragon to sign the release form.

_I still hate the guy but I didn't expect that._ Griffon rumbles in her head. Dragon is to the point of boiling, because she can't take care of herself, her Zoids, anyone. She needs outside help now, a previously banished thought in her better life. The pen shakes in her hand and for a brief moment Dragon sorely wants her old life back, living in comfort, watching days drift by in utmost content….

She signs her name and Geno waves her toward the back. Dragon won't look at Alejandro, doesn't even say thank you, but how can she? The guy put down 6,000 Gallos without a thought, which meant he won more battles then Dragon realized at first. Dragon could be that good, is that good, _was_ that good, but the risk of fixing her Zoids outweighed the potential of a good pay off. Geno comes to a stop, brandishing the Blade Liger before them. "There he is. Good to go."

Dragon really missed Rigel, and she runs up to him, stroking the cold metal of his nose as the Liger bends to greet her. "No hard feelings. I'm sorry it took so long to get you." Dragon gushes. Rigel rumbles a deep noise, nothing malicious, and Dragons thanks Geno profusely as she scales the armor, falling into a familiar heap in Rigel's cockpit.

"It has been too long."

_Not really._

"Shush."

Alejandro heads back to his own Liger, and only then can Dragon see how much bigger and sturdier the other feline is. The abundance of weaponry on the Blade Liger Mirage makes Rigel look like a hapless skeleton in comparison. And he notices this. Rigel steps away from the other cat, unsure of what to make of this situation. Griffon nestles in the top fin parts on Rigel's head. Alejandro makes off, and Dragon follows him, quiet for a few moments until she opens a comm-link. Dragon isn't good at thanking people for their generous donations. It's not one of her fortes.

"Uhm, thanks for what you did back there. I mean really, I have to pay you back somehow. I can't believe you caught that steel thing, I never would have noticed. But I guess that's why your Blade Liger has won you so many more battles, huh?" Dragon is evidently struggling with this whole thing, clearly seen in her babbling. But leaving this action unnoticed is not part of her plan, and Dragon fully expects to right this wrong. Somehow.

Alejandro only laughs. Dragon takes some offense to that. To her, somebody paying that amount of money is a pretty big fuckin' deal. Alejandro treats it like he gave Dragon a coin to go buy a gumball. "6,000 is nuttin' to me, kid. I didn't want to say anything before, but I'm pretty well off. I travel a lot and this Zoid I'm piloting? It kills. I've taken down three Zoid teams _by myself._ I once came close to beating a Hayate Liger but the bastard switched to Mugen on me. You don't have to pay me back, okay? I make more in a week than you make in two months probably." There's a defiant smugness thick in his voice, the confident, over-cocky beat of someone who knows damn well he is _good._ Dragon feels a little bit like she's been scolded.

"I don't like being in anyone's debt." She says firmly. Alejandro sighs over the comm-link.

"Eve. Okay, how about this. My apartment is far from the major stadiums here. Maybe I could stay in your apartment on the nights of my battles? I won't take food I just need a place to rest. Sound fair?"

Dragon thinks it over. "Yeah, sounds good."

"I've known you for less then 24 hours, Dragon. But I can already tell that you use to have money, once. Now that I think about it, your name sounds familiar. Maybe it's just seeing you in a Blade Liger but…..didn't you pilot a Brastle Tiger?"

* * *

Despite Allie's best needling, Dragon won't tell him anything. She's quiet now, stone-faced, as Alejandro talks about the Brastle Tiger, gray with toxic green, a Deochalcum infection. He brings up a lot of old battling memories, a lot of stuff Dragon wants to forget and eventually she turns the comm-link off all together.

_Hm._

"This is hard."

_Let's focus on winning first._

"I never knew I would actually have a reputation. I haven't battled the hardcore stuff in so long."

_This is your chance to get back on track again._

Dragon can't decide if she wants to get back into legit battle dome battling. She would be like Allie, traveling the world, winning thousands, being only as good as her Zoid. The Blade Liger Mirage swishes its tail in front of her but Alejandro hasn't attempted to radio back in.

_But you need practice. And so do these two. Who knows what you'll be fighting. This time though, it's not for glory or bragging rights. You really have to win this. You have a reason this time._

Dragon knows she always has a reason. Always. To be the best, to show off her skills, to own all those pilots in all those Zoids, with nothing more than a Blade Liger or a Brastle Tiger. Taking down the Furies and the Genos, souped up with crazy weapons, assisted by crazier Organoids. In her past life battling wasn't a way of survival it was a way of life.

_Tomorrow, battle like nothing has changed. You still reign._

In front of her, Dragon watches Alejandro's Blade Liger Mirage swish it's tail again, casting a shadow over her in a brief moment. _Battle like a King. Battle like you are the star of the show. You are the Ruler and they are the subjects._

_

* * *

_

**A/N- **I am naming my kid Alejandro and he will be a cocky bastard who shows off for the ladies and/or sparkles. That is all.


	3. Pt 3

**A/N-** Omg Pt. 3! This includes the completely awful battle scene. Figure I would tell you beforehand. You can tell I'm all excited about this almost being down and then...the fight scene. Its hard trying to accurately and beautifully describe a Zoid fight. They aren't that long and so much is happening so fast. So it sucks. Blargh.

I've noticed how much shorter everything is. I'll work on length for my next story, which includes longer paragraphs and the like.

* * *

"You got Rigel back? How did you afford it?" Adamaris' is wary, his hazy eyes carefully tracking Dragon as she pokes about the room, cleaning it up a bit, moving paint supplies and brushes and various hair gels and sprays, gold eyeliner and matching nail polish. "Stop touching my stuff." He jokes.

"Alejandro bought him back for me. Didn't like it but I'm really up shit's creek right now." Dragon answers, completely disregarding Adamaris' request and picking up a bottle of shimmery green nail polish. She likes the color, but Dragon isn't much for make-up and tanning. More of a sweatpants and sweatshirt sort of girl. Adamaris creaks from the bed, his back considerably better but still swollen and aching. The need for painkillers has dwindled down to two a day but he still craves the medicine pills like life support.

"Tell me what it was like to be rich?" Adamaris asks, and Dragon fights to roll her eyes. She puts the nail polish back on the desktop. Fenrir is sleeping by her feet, optics dimmed and head resting on his wickedly clawed paws.

"How random was that? Why do you want to know?" Dragon asks, tiring of Adamaris' constant wheedling to get her to explain her life.

"I'm bored. I know Jenna has tons of money to blow but she's never known what it's like to be….like us."

Like us. Poor. Dragon picks at the wood. "Uhm. I was a lot more materialistic. I didn't care if I broke something because I could always replace it. I traveled around a lot," Dragon racks her memory. It wasn't even that long ago but the details are getting muddy. "Ra, I had so many Zoids. King Baron, Gull Tiger, two Bio Tyrannous, Shield Liger, Battle Cougar." Dragon smiles faintly.

"I know about the Zoids. You've told me. No Geno Maxis though." Adamaris smiles at that, knowing he has a Maxis while Dragon never did. In return she flinches a bit, shyly turns away at the memory of a big, white Maxis with starving orange optics. Adamaris notices this and tries to sit up.

"What?" He asks, quietly, like trying to coax an injured Organoid toward him, a beast who knows it's cornered but can still fight.

"Nothing. I need to go get ready." Dragon points out, shifting to her feet. She's out the door in nanoseconds but can still hear Adamaris' tired sigh behind her.

* * *

"That is a _big_ cat." Alejandro stats, ending his sentence with a highly respected whistle. Dragon stands a little higher; her old ego is blooming as Allie and Leon make rounds around the Soul Tiger. Dragon's Soul Tiger.

Equipped with the Soul Booster, the Zoid stands a tad taller than the Blade Liger Mirage and clears the Godkaiser by a good amount of feet. The paws hold the nasty fighter weapons, the Platinum Metal Zip Claws while laser cannons dot the feline's shoulders. Dragon gleams at the squashed in face of her Zoid, the squished muzzle holding sharp teeth and the red tubes protruding from its body. Dragon hasn't piloted this Zoid much but it can't be too different from a Blade Liger. It is a cat.

"Alright kids, battle starts in eight hours. And we still have nary an idea how we all pilot." Alejandro speaks out, leaning back lavishly on his Liger's paw, and Dragon wonders how such a slutty looking guy can sometimes speak with such an air of intelligence. Leon notices the same thing.

"You look like a girl."

"Fuck you."

"If this is gonna work we have to work together," Dragon begs, playing peacekeeper here because she has the most to lose. So…..she rubs a clean spot on her Tiger, wondering how the Zoid knew it was needed and where it came from. "Learn our battle skills and strategies, right?" Yeah she's grabbing at thin air now, but Dragon is smart enough to know that unless everyone cooperates in this, that's their only change of winning.

"Long range assault. Once those guys drop, all in with the blades," Alejandro describes. "If they even survive that first line of fire. The Attack Boosters alone can melt damn near anything." The pride in his voice, although well earned, is bridging on annoyance for Dragon. Maybe because she could never pilot her Blade Liger the way Alejandro claims to pilot his.

"That's weird, not using the blades on your _Blade _Liger." Leon muses.

"Less damage I take, the better."

"I'm better at close combat," Dragon chirps. The boys look at her like, for a moment, they forgot she was there. "Explode Bite, remember? Allie, you could power up Rosencrantz if I need it."

Alejandro grins at the idea. "Devious. I like it." Dragon feels her confidence boost up a bit.

"I'll just fire from afar. Brutus is too slow for much else," Leon stats. "Hate to say it but you two might have to give me some cover now and then. Especially if we're up against some big-headed jerk and his Genopuppet."

Dragon, in all her years, has never heard the term 'Genopuppet' but chooses not to question it. Arrival to the arena doesn't happen for seven hours, leaving plenty of free time to combat growing nausea. Dragon leaves Allie and Leon to poke and prod over the Zoids as she escapes back up to Adamaris.

* * *

"It is way too crowded in here." Adamaris complains, poking Dragon in the side with his socked toe.

Dragon has to agree with him. Their apartment is a tiny thing, the rooms being a third of the size of those back in Dragon's Base. Fenrir and Griffon are both cramped in, their hides to the point of touching. Via unspoken agreement, Griffon is the choice to aid the warriors in battle. Dragon hopes he won't be selfish and will fuse with whichever teammate needs the most help.

Exhausted, Dragon flumps over, scooting up a bit so her head rests comfortably on Adamaris' chest. She can hear the steady beat of his heart, feel his lungs expand when he takes a breath. Griffon growls a low warning but Adamaris ignores him. "I'm sensing some tension here, pretty girl. It's just a battle." Adamaris chuckles. Dragon can't share his humor because this is much more than a battle. This is the win she powerfully needs.

"It's a lot more then that. We can pay off the rent for a few months, afford the doctor's bill, and maybe even clean this place up a bit." Dragon gestures to the broken apart room, the faded windowsills and the creaky bed, rusty door hinges and limping ceiling fan. Adamaris pouts.

"I've been pretty well off. I don't need a lot of money," He says. His finger comes down to tap against Dragon's nose. "You, however, are being as materialistic as you claimed to be before I met you." Adamaris might as have thrown two buckets of kerosene into a dying fire. Griffon and Fenrir, sensing sparks about to fly, sulk out of the room in silence. Normally Griffon would stay but this time, his opinion has no right interjecting.

Dragon pushes herself up, disbelief looming on her face, hand pressing deep into Adamaris' stomach and forgetting the hive of pain dwelling there. He makes an expression of pain but Dragon's view of red blinds her to it. "What? How am I being _materialistic_?" She spits, as if the word burns her mouth. Adamaris senses something bad blooming, but pushes the subject farther.

"Look, I know you want to pay those bills but it's not worth getting hurt over. What if something goes wrong in the arena? What if you get hurt? Or Leo?" Adamaris does bring up a good point, but Dragon can't hear beyond the first sentence. She's deaf to all but the whistling of her right hand through the air and the subtle, loud _smack!_ It makes upon contact with Adamaris' cheek. The blows turns his face toward the window, and already the skin shows up red and burning.

"_Want_ to the pay bills? Atlas, I _have_ to pay the bills. My life isn't some big fucking party, and neither should yours. Ra, take responsibility because I'm not going to baby you for the rest of your life! I had more control over my life when I was rich and…." Dragon fizzles out. Adamaris is staring at her, hand to his cheek, mouth open and eyes watery. They are trained on her the same way a piece of prey watches a ravenous predator. "I gave that up. To come here."

Dragon glares back at Adamaris, who still hasn't spoken but is breathing heavier. He's been slapped before, countless times from date nights gone bad but never like this. True hatred lingered behind that slap. "You haven't been making me better. I've been getting worse." She realizes, a sudden epiphany. And just like, she's off. Past a startled Griffon and Fenrir and down the stairs, to the Hanger where Alejandro and Leo compare the strength of beam cannons. Dragon scales to the cockpit of her Matrix Dragon.

She slips out unnoticed.

* * *

Nyx is two hours away. The ride over is strangely silent. Seto doesn't talk and babble doesn't flow over her comm-link, no excited sounds and high-pitched, bubbly laughter. Only the roar of engine boosters, the wind whipping against the cockpit glass. Dragon privately hopes that the rain will hold off. It's always raining on Nyx and this is a rare event, perfectly clear sky and a sun merely tinted by the offsetting glow of Deochalcum.

Dragon reaches the hollow shell of her Base, months into decay after being cleaned-up all those years back. The Deochalcum field, untouched, continues to stand guard, reaching out miles in every direction. Spires that reach the sky protecting this once proud monolith of a building. The black body is dusty with loose dirt, a few windows cracked, and the rain has long washed away the footprints of dozens of Zoids. Seto comes to a rest upon a leveled Deochalcum pillar, his wings retracting to rest against his back. Dragon leaves the cockpit to sit on the spike, huddles together to keep away that Nyxian chill.

She stays there for a half an hour, thinking, lost in her own world. Her world. This building was her place, her throne as Queen. Now she's a lowly peasant competing for a crown that's much too big for her. Dragon sighs and wraps her arms around her knees.

_Something on your mind?_

Griffon possesses the uncanny ability and habit to sneak up on people. Only after Dragon's heart has slowed to a more suitable rate does she answer. "A lot of somethings. I miss this." She lifts a hand and gestures to her kingdom. Griffon settles down beside her, his armor doing nothing to reduce the chill in the air. Still, Dragon is thankful for his no nonsense company.

_It had to go sometime. Living up in this hole wasn't good for you. Now you can explore and you've met so many people, _Griffon points out. He pauses to give a smirk. _None of who tried to kill you._

"I am so mad at Adamaris right now." Dragon brings up bluntly. Better not hide it anymore and if anyone can help her out, it's Griffon. The Organoid thinks for a moment, Deochalcum green basking his armor with a radiant shade of green.

_I think he feels guilty. You come from a life of, let's face it, pampering. If you didn't want to do it you got one of the members to do it. You don't complain much but I'm pretty sure he can see it on your face. _Griffon points out, striking Dragon with her own much-needed stake of guilt. He's right; Adamaris isn't stupid and the sad flickers that come over his eyes whenever he nor Dragon can afford something…Dragon looks down at the ground.

"I slapped him."

_Mhmm. Wolfgang got a wake-up call out of that. But you need to come back and fight in this battle. You need to win._

"Do you think I care too much about money?"

_Yes. But you came from a lot of it. You need more time to adjust and get use to living with less stuff but more love._

Dragon is a villain. She always has been and part of her always seems to want to continue that destiny. Griffon nudges her and Dragon climbs back in Seto's cockpit, kicking the Zoid into high gear as Griffon rockets behind her. The Base is left in the dust, alone with only the Deochalcum for company. Dragon sees it crumbling in the future, taking all those memories with it. It's sad to see such a regal edifice stripped of its glory but Dragon has a new life to take care of, one with people who need and love her instead of just tolerating her.

Dragon leaves her bad thoughts in the Deochalcum. The ride home is considerably lighter.

* * *

Alejandro and Leon barely open their mouths but Dragon is already up the stairs. Leo is shouting about leaving _right the fuck now_ but Dragon tunes him out, flinging open Adamaris' door and charging inside like every solider in the Empire and Republic combined is right on her tail.

Adamaris looks up at her, and Dragon has to give him credit for how expressionless his face is, still a vicious red nonetheless. It pains Dragon just to look at it. Her mouth slips open like a fish and her mind is blank; "I'm sorry" seems so overdone at this point in their relationship.

"I'm sorry," She blurts out, exactly what she did not want to say but fuck it. "In three days I feel like I've apologized like, five times. Can you forgive me one more time?" She really is exasperated, stressing and feeling every single beat of her heart against her ribcage. Adamaris switches his gaze to the ceiling, biting his lip so adorablely it makes Dragon want to giggle.

"My face hurts." Adamaris finally complains, but he's smirking and his eyes are twinkling.

"Want me to kiss it and make it better?" Dragon fires back, just being silly, and Adamaris' smirk grows into the beginning threads of a laugh…

"Hey kids, don't want to interrupt your love fest but we sorta have a thing to do? Kick some ass, win some cash?"

Leo is standing in the doorway, eyebrow rising with an elegant curve. Alejandro is standing behind him, arms folded over his chest. "Oh, to be young and in love again," He signs dramatically. "Kiss and make-up later, Dragon, we gotta _go_." Alejandro makes an impatient gesture out the door.

Dragon squeezes Adamaris' hand, a silly lovestruck thing uncommon for her nature, but Adamaris squeezes back. "Good luck."

* * *

The crowd is thunderous. Even behind the solid gates, Dragon hears the hungry roars for battle as clearly as if they were right in front of her. Nerves send tiny jolts of electricity up and down her spine. Rosencrantz is impossibly quiet, not even his swaying tail rippling the still air. Griffon waits patiently atop the Soul Tiger's head. Dragon feels so much pressure her head is likely to rupture. The pounding of her heart thumps in time with the crowd.

"Eve, I am ready for this," Alejandro says in high anticipation. The Blade Liger stares dead ahead, as stoic as Allie is riled up. "There's probably gonna be a Geno of some sort, I swear. Better not be another Blade Liger."

Alejandro rambled praise to himself and the promise of drinks after the victory. Dragon can hardly listen, so focused on what she has to do. Brutus, the Godkaiser, comes tromping up beside the Soul Tiger. Leo sounds worried as he spoke.

"I'm not saying you need to relax, but you do need to breathe and not faint on us, alright? We are going to kick major ass, win this thing, and throw our hard-earned cash to the sky. Keep your head on straight." Leo says, and Dragon nods her head like a bobblehead, like something else was nodding for her.

"Alright kids, let's fuck shit up." Alejandro says in glee. Dragon stills her hands, allowing her mind to gradually shift into blank thoughts as the solid metal gate opens with promises of killing on the other end. The sunlight hurts at first glimpse, but Rosencrantz boldly strides out into the harsh brightness. Brutus and the Blade Liger follow, each adapting the strut of their species to appear more threatening, dangerous, wild killers with savage pilots at their hands. The Blade Liger's golden fangs are wickedly bared.

The announcer reads their names and their Zoids. Dragon barely hears him, her acute hearing fine-tuned to the cheers and jeers of the crowd. Leo whistles lightly. "Damn, what a crowd."

The door across the arena beings it's drawn-out ride to retraction. Dragon goes tense, feeling that wonderful prickle of excitement that always gets her before the start of a fight. Her lips quirk into a smile as Alejandro starts a mini-ranting of "There better not be a Geno, there better not be…."

The first Zoid trundles out painfully slow, one foot after the other. Dragon inhales the second she spots the massive, unlimited and unrivaled mass of guns built into the monster's back. At least a dozen firing weapons, protected by thick armor and golden spikes, stubby legs and an even stubbier tail make up the form of Gunblaster, in all of its far-range glory. The slanted optics zero in on Dragon and her crew, jaw working evilly.

After the Gunblaster comes an ugly orange cat with no visible face or mouth, just a smashed in pile of armor the color of oranges gone bad. Behind the feline's jackrabbit ears sits an unholy large sniper rifle, nearly as long as the cat is large. Dragon has seen Snipe Ligers before, but this one boasts a new addition; she can clearly make out the extra missile pods holstered to the cat's elbows. The Liger pauses next to the Gunblaster, looking as bored as a Zoid with no face can.

Dragon can see a pattern here. "They are going to blow us up. Those two alone have more firepower than the three of us put together." She points out, dread forming, as the Gunblaster spins its deadly barrels.

"Those Zoids are also slow as fuck. I can slice that 'Blaster in two before it even turns around." Alejandro scoffs, no fear in his voice, almost laziness even as the Blade Liger shuffles from paw to paw in earnest to slash some tail.

Dragon is ready to retort when a familiar stomping reaches her ears. Its biped, no doubt about that, something heavy and saurian in stature. Rosencrantz backs up with a hiss, his ruby red panels taking on a brighter glow. The last Zoid finally takes the stage, and Dragon feels her chest tighten a bit, hears Alejandro howl a string of courses as the Berserk Fury, equipped in Shadow Edge armor, stands beside the Snipe Liger with a twisted sneer upon the metal lips.

* * *

The battle starts with a bang. Literally. The Snipe Liger hunkers down into sniping stance, and one paw-sized bullet whizzes past Rosencrantz's ear to embed itself two feet into the wall behind him. The Soul Tiger leers, flexing out the Platinum Metal Zi claws. Dragon is instantly proud to see the way her foes react; even the Berserk Fury flinches slightly at the claws that can shred any armor.

Alejandro is gone. One minute, he was there beside Dragon and the next, all she saw was the dust cloud his Liger left in its wake. "Allie wait up!" Dragon calls to the Zoid's fleeing form, charging headlong into battle. "He is going to get _killed_." She spits. Rosencrantz coils himself up for a second, metal body hostile before he launches into a run. Brutus lags behind, painfully slow and clumsy compared to the agile cats.

The Snipe Liger leaps out of sniping stance, both missile pods on the elbows popping open. At that same second, the Gunblaster's entire armada lights up with a Hellish golden glow. Dragon squeaks in terror, mind going empty for a moment until she hits a bright red button on the Tiger's control panel. She is a little nervous, having never done this before.

_Zing!_ Dragon stiffens, experiencing a wordless loss of self and weight. She hovers in complete nothingness for a fraction of a second, eyes trying to focus on what's around her…

The Soul Tiger lands behind the Gunblaster, boredly eyeing the exposed rear. Dragon doesn't need to think twice, an unleashes a healthy amount of red lasers into the Zoid's back. The hurting bellows of the Gunblaster raises alarm to the Berserk Fury Shadow Edge, who turns away from battling Brutus. The Godkaiser attempts to lumber after the larger saurian but Dragon can clearly see the heavy leg damage to the Godkaiser's leg.

"Dragon, watch out! He's fast!" Leo warns. And he is completely true; Dragon barely has time to wrench the controls left and avoid a devastating bite by the Fury. Boosters the size of a Helcat blow such concentrated heat off of the Tyrann's back that Dragon feels it deep in the cockpit. Rosencrantz dodges back, and Dragon retaliates with a set of steely claws aimed for the Fury's neck.

The blades stop them. Two of them, glowing ominous purple, throwing off sinister energy that match the optics of the Shadow Edge. The blades are criss-crossed, holding the platinum Metal Zi with a sense of daintiness, as if the Zoid were cradling something no more deadly than a daisy. Two more blades fling out from the beast's hips and Dragon is too slow, stupidly slow, to avoid the weapons jamming harsh and hard into Rosencrantz's shoulders. The Tiger roars right in the face of the Fury, who replies by merely opening his mouth. Dragon freezes. _Shit. Shit!_ She thinks, pulling the controls back. Hard. The Shadow Edge flicks out two more blades from the back that dig into the Soul Booster, shredding armor and tubes with the power of a shark crushing a hapless fish.

"Griffon, get out of here!" Dragon orders, looking anywhere, everywhere but the glowing ball of energy forming in the Fury's mouth. Her hands are shaking, and she misses the part where Griffon stubbornly refuses to go. The ball is getting larger, the size of the sun, and the brightness is hurting Dragon's eyes. She could have Griffon fuse, but the power of the Charged Particle Cannon would incinerate them both….

Dragon hears a thump of paws. In an instant, the Berserk Fury snaps shut those powerful jaws, lurching forward with a groan. The blades dissipate in a swirl of energy. Rosencrantz leaps back, and Dragon is jerking her head around, trying to make sense of what is happening. The Snipe Liger, lying in a messy heap across the arena. Smoke is lifting lightly from the discarded body, like a soul leaving, and the Zoid itself looks thoroughly destroyed.

The Blade Liger Mirage is latched onto the Fury's back, claws ripping into the booster pack, the Assault Gatling Unit shooting close range at the Zoid's tail, destroying the vents and promising to cripple any use of the Particle Cannon. The Berserk Fury flings itself around, boosters lopsided and chugging with the extra weight. The Liger refuses to be flung off.

"Woo! Not so scary now are you, you stupid fucking lizard?" Alejandro taunts, his Zoid nearly peeling off the entire booster unit. The Fury makes an eerily human-esque squeal of pain, the tail vents looking exactly like rotten wood at this point. The Blade Liger Mirage flips forward the Attack Boosters, both barrels pointed at the larger Zoid's neck. Dragon watches in awe as Alejandro prepares to yet again blast apart another Zoid.

The arrival of the blades changes that. In a split second, the Fury grips its talons into the ground, bends its head forward, and extends four of those harsh blades from the backpack. In a span of slow motion, the powerful edges come down like a guillotine. Dragon shoves her Tiger forward in a rushed stroke but her effort is too late. The blades slash into the Blade Liger, severing deep into circuits and gushing out a waterfall of black liquid from deep inside. The feline cries out, claws losing their grip as the blades sink deeper, pushed down by the sheer metal muscle the Fury owns.

In one swift movement the Fury dumps itself toward Rosencrantz and Dragon barely has time to flee to the left as the Blade Liger's crippled body lands belly-up on the steel floor. Rosencrantz skids to a stop, short mouth open with a hiss as the feline crouches, preparing to launch itself as the Fury. But the larger Zoid pays them no mind, instead staring down with a terrible sneer at the flailing Liger.

"Dragon, behind you!" Alejandro yells, desperation in his voice. The Fury bears down on him, two blades extended. The Liger Mirage snatches them with torn-apart nails but the heat from the energy instantly starts to melt them. The white feline roars, but the cannons on its back are shredded and crushed, the signature blades dented and cracked.

Rosencrantz swings his head around. The Gunblaster is there, far from the Soul Tiger and closer to Brutus, who is lagging and doubled over. The Gunblaster takes aim at Dragon's Zoid and she can feel the big red target painted on her forehead. "Leo, you alright?" She calls over the comm-link as Rosencrantz walks backward, lost between whom to fire at.

"Been better, kid. Bunch of systems down, Brutus can barely walk and he trashed my back gun. What are you doing, help Alejandro!" Leo orders with such force that Dragon blindly turns from the Gunblaster and aims her laser weaponry on the Shadow Edge. But once again, like so many times in the past, some sort of reoccurring nightmare, Dragon is significantly behind schedule for heroic savings. Rosencrantz has barely lifted a claw when the Fury's claws completely melt the Blade Liger Mirage's claws and go effortlessly on their way to burrow deep into the cat's neck. The Fury's head darts out like a possessed serpent, electricity crackling from the serrated teeth to chomp heavily on the Liger's neck.

In a single unholy gesture, the Tyrann pops off the Liger's head with a sickening suction noise, and deposits the decapitation loudly on the floor. The job done, the Zoid growls and glares over at Rosencrantz with murder in its optics.

"Fuck! My Liger! My Liger!" Alejandro howls in proclaimed rage. Dragon hears him punching the control panel in a loser's fit. "I lost to a shit ugly dinosaur!"

"Allie, relax! Griffon, you ready?" Dragon speaks up. She can hear bullets and beams flying from behind her, the unmistakable bellows of the Godkaiser and Gunblaster warring for dominance. She has no idea on the whereabouts of her opponent's Organoid, but Griffon can save Alejandro, as hard as it may be with the Zoid lacking a head right now.

"Dragon, are you fucking stupid? That'll use too much of his energy, for Eve's sake act like a damn pilot!" Alejandro snarls. At the exact moment he finishes, the injured Berserk Fury boosters at the Soul Tiger, the base of the pack wobbling dangerously. This time Dragon is ready and with a desperate motion, with so much at stake, she sends Rosencrantz into a jump at the other Zoid with claws at the ready.

Rosencrantz slams into the Fury with dull force, so blunt that Dragon feels it echo in her bones. The Soul Tiger is on his hind legs, clinging to a jerking Berserk Fury. _The blades, watch the blades._ Griffon warns from his spot under the Soul Booster. As soon as the words leave Dragon's mind, all eight of the blades, _eight blades_, unfurl from the Fury's back and hips in dramatic fashion, the edges curled slightly like scythes. The Fury's face takes on a gleam of satisfaction. Dragon can almost see the cocky grin of the pilot safely hidden inside.

"Nope, you are shit outta luck." Dragon says matter-of-factly. Rosencrantz's claws envelope around the Fury's neck, dragging the meters-length of unbreakable metal into the badly destroyed armor as the short, blunt face opens wide to bite down on the exposed throat. Hard. The Fury starts to try and toss them. The boosters are breaking, cracking, and the blades are losing power. Still, blindly, they swing around on fading hinges until the Soul Tiger uses all of his weight to slam the Fury onto the ground. A true feline, a beast of prey finally succeeding in ending the life of its prey. The Fury struggles but Rosencrantz refuses to let go. Dragon is shaking. She needs to win this, needs it bad.

A bright light explodes to her left. At first Dragon fears for Brutus and she imagines the hulking figure of the Gunblaster arriving on scene. But it is much worse. A draconic figure, forest green in color with a long blade on the tail, hovers in the air for a second. Dragon stares up at it. With a shrieking roar the Organoid dissolves into a blast of green light. It shoots upward, making a long arch to fall back into the Berserk Fury.

"Sucks. Run, sweetheart, or you'll be smashed in a second." Alejandro huffs over the comm-link. Rosencrantz begrudgingly releases his grip and hobbles back, bristling and snarling as the Organoid slams into the downed saurian. Dragon takes her chance.

"Leo, you good?"

"I wish. Damn Gunblaster finally did me in but he's not gonna be much a threat. Most of those guns are either outta ammo or burned apart. Sorry to leave you like this, kid. Godspeed." Leo answered, sounding sheepish. Dragon's jaw dropped.

"Really, guys?" She yelped in frustration. Rosencrantz ducked away from the healing Berserk Fury and sprinted toward the grungy Gunblaster. Dragon was eternally grateful to see the beast on its last leg. Literally. The Zoid looked to be sinking into the arena floor, smushed by its own tremendous weight. Dragon pressed that red button.

_Zing!_

The Gunblaster wallows in pity, stubby and smashed legs floundering uselessly as the Soul Tiger materializes at its rear. Rosencrantz flexes a set of claws. Dragon, ready to pounce on her foe, doesn't waste a second. It was going to be glorious as the Tiger descended, killing off her enemy in one single swoop. But that didn't happen. The Gunblaster's shield blooms like a deadly flower, pink and silly looking but crackling with Zoid-repellent energy. The Soul Tiger bounces off, comically, like a fly hitting an electric fence full force. Dragon rocks in the cockpit, her Zoid suddenly upside down on his back, stunned motionless.

"Uh, get your ass up, Princess. Monsters coming for you." Alejandro alerts with an air of _nonchalance, _the bastard. Dragon peers out from the cockpit glass. The Gunblaster is fixing the working weapons on her Zoid. The Berserk Fury Shadow Edge is back, completely healed and sporting a curving blade on its tail and a knowing grin on its reptilian face. Dragon's mouth flops open.

"Now or never, Dragon!" Leo calls. Dragon closes her eyes, thinks of all these corrupt problems in her life. The stomping is getting closer as Rosencrantz rolls to his paws, injured and heaving, body dribbling silver fluid onto the ground. Dragon opens her eyes. In every sort of cliché method she can think of, of watching all those brave pilots risk their lives and Zoids for victory, she is about to do the same.

"Griffon!"

With a stupendous burst of light, Griffon roars a roar of madness and demons. He explodes into the sky, much to the glory of the crowd, and opens feathery wings wide. He hovers for a long second, body melting into a star of gold and black beauty. Slowly he drops, but gradually picks up speed, falling faster and faster until he hits the Soul Tiger right through the center. The feline jerks under sudden possession, optics blazing a new shade of luminescent yellow. That same color spreads over the Zoid's body like a healing wave, restoring cracks and bruises with practiced ease.

Rosencrantz stands with a regal pose, his teeth bared and newfound energy coursing through his body. The Gunblaster steps back, and the Fury cocks his head warily. In return the Soul Tiger lets out a tremendous bellow so loud Dragon swells up with pride. She presses the red button with restored confidence.

_Zing!_

The Gunblaster is in pieces. Stunned stupid, the lumbering titan crouches in the same spot, minus the legs on one side. The Zoid slams into the floor with a thud that shakes the continent. Dragon doubles back around, that sense of lost being taking over as, for a mere moment she ceases to exist from the Soul Warp. The Zoid materializes above the Gunblaster and Rosencrantz brings his claws down on the Gunblaster's thick neck, slicing through them with unimaginable ease. The Zoid's head drops with a clatter.

"Dragon, behind you!" Alejandro yells.

The Tiger whips around and Griffon, so much faster then human reflects, already has the Zoid warping away so fast, light cannot catch up. Dragon catches a glimpse of what Griffon was running from. A Charged Particle Cannon, twice the size of normal, incinerates the air where Rosencrantz stood a half second before. The concrete floor oozes melted metal that steams upward from a crater that easily tops two feet deep and four feet long. Rosencrantz arises to the side of the Fury, thirty feet away and still the sinister shade of purple and blue is burned in Dragon's eyesight.

"We need to finish it with far combat. If we try the same thing Allie did, we'll get cut." Dragon says when Griffon starts the Tiger forward. Rosencrantz pauses, snarls back when the Fury turns to look at them. A total standoff, with the crowd's anticipation for spilled blood growing in the stands.

The lasers, although significantly powered up via Griffon's energy and the Soul Booster, were still too weak for the undoubtedly souped-up armor of the Berserk Fury. Dragon cranes her neck to look back at Brutus. Both he and the Blade Liger are out of commission, deadweight, unable to fire laser weaponry into Rosencrantz's condenser panels.

It Rosencrantz himself who makes the first move after a few painful seconds of standing. The Tiger rockets forward, claws stabbing into the concrete every time he makes contact. The Berserk Fury digs his talons in, and all eight blades burst from his body, giving him the impression of being a very large, very spiny octopus. Dragon hits the red button and Rosencrantz dematerializes on the spot, much to the Fury's chagrin. Dragon swears she sees the beast move a second before they fade away and her brain catches up a second later.

"Crap!" Rosencrantz forms at the Fury's rear. Or what was his rear two seconds ago. Now they are met with a stabbing blade that lashes out the second Rosencrantz is completely whole. The Soul Tiger jerks backward, the blade coming an inch from slitting open his throat. In pure retaliation Rosencrantz strikes out, the Platinum Metal Zi claws hooking into the Fury's shoulder. The beast opens his jaws and crunches down on the Tiger's shoulder. The two are in a death grip. The purple energy from the blades hurts Dragon's eyes.

But she can't lose. Adamaris is hurting, waiting for the win that can maybe pull them a bit out of the poverty line. The Berserk Fury puts his weight forward, and Dragon can feel the weight crushing her Zoid. The thought of losing another battles causes sweat to pound down her spine, the image of going home a loser burning painfully into her skull. Dragon grits her teeth, senses the stabbing pain as two blades impale the Tiger's sides. Griffon hisses from deep in the Core.

"Grif, I want all your power in the teeth. Maybe we can use the Explode Bite." Dragon thinks up. The Fury's neck is right there, perfectly vital and exposed.

_I can't do that. One, all my power means what I've put into the armor. I'm barely holding off the blades now. Two, look how close we are. I do not want to be blown apart. _Griffon replies from the Tiger's Core. Dragon furrows her brow.

"I'm the pilot, not you. Trust, this'll work."

Griffon sighs. The blades sink in intensely, and Rosencrantz buckles, his claws losing their grip. Dragon stares at the Explode Bite Fang meter, watching it teasingly creep up into the red. The Fury bores down, and Dragon flinches at the sound of joints popping eerily to human bone. The meter rises still.

As Rosencrantz fights to stay upright and Griffon sends all power into the jaw, Dragon meets the Fury's optics. The pilot in there probably has a girlfriend or boyfriend, but the difference being he is far better off. Not like Dragon. The sting of living in poverty has brought about big change. Dragon looks into the Fury's slanted glass eyes, the ticket to her wealth.

The meter is full. Dragon grins a sinister grin. Rosencrantz opens his blunt snout, baring a handful of small yet sharp teeth that start to crackle with Organoid power. The Fury sees this. The pilot makes the right choice and rather than fight he is already attempting to free himself from the tangled mess they are in. Rosencrantz clings on with his deathly claws, mouth roaring with untamable power. The Fury unclenches his teeth, fighting to back up but he is far too late. Rosencrantz stabs his jaw onto the Fury's neck and all Dragon sees is a beautiful, taunting whiteness.

* * *

"And I thought repairing Rigel was ridiculous. I'm sorry Griffon, but would you mind?"

_Right now? Yes. Later? No._

"Are you still mad at me?"

_Very much so, yes._

Guilt turning her mouth sour, Dragon watches Griffon fly crookedly out of the arena. She sits back down on the arena floor, feeling rather nostalgic to her last battle. Only this one didn't end in failure. Rosencrantz was in ruins but the Fury was worse, the entire Zoid decimated, the pilot almost dead if the Organoid hadn't come to his rescue. Dragon hears footsteps approaching. She looks at her shoes.

"Eve, that was insane. I thought you were dead," Alejandro laughs. He's giddy, shaking slightly with a mix of anger and joy. Dragon peers up at him. Thirty seconds ago he was screaming mutilation and gore to his workers, screeching that his Liger needed to be picked up now. Not in ten minutes but _now_. With the Blade Liger Mirage safely on its way to recovery, Allie calmed down somewhat. Dragon still considered him a loose wire. "Talk about a desperate move. I would never sacrifice my Zoid that way. Never."

"We won, though. All that money, ours!" Leo beams. He eyes Dragon for a moment, face going soft. "Well, yours, actually. You won it, and poor darling needs to get better so he can go out and start it all over again."

Dragon chuckles. The win has put her in a good mood but really, all she wants is a good sleep. Preferably with a healthy Adamaris next to her. "We have no way to get back. All of our Zoids are trashed," Dragon motions to the pieces of Rosencrantz and the crippled Brutus. "Griffon and Fenrir can heal the Zoids." She points out because really, she doesn't want to dent the prize money yet.

"You don't think I haven't thought about that? Sweetheart you should know me by now," Alejandro smirks, his eyes momentarily drifting up to the crowd. A pair of lavishly jeweled girls blow kisses at him, which Allie eagerly sends back. Leo shakes his head. "Anyway, the boys sent a Gustav. Not the best way to travel but fuck it we have money!"

Alejandro struts away, beckoning Leo to follow him with one suggestive wiggle of his finger. Leo groans, but smiles down at Dragon. "You did good today, kid. Real good," He says fondly, causing Dragon to blush slightly and resume looking at her shoes. "Go get that prize money and we can head back home."

* * *

"Oh Ra, money has never smelled so good," Dragon gushes, bringing one of the wads up to her nose for another inhale of goodness. "This is better then that drug Americans talk about all the time."

"That would be called weed."

"Right."

Dragon caresses the bills the same way a mother would a child. Money makes her dizzy with joy, the touch and feel and the smell. Holding physical power, a lifesource, the very energy of Zoid Eve herself. Dragon giggles at that thought. Leo looks at her strangely. Dragon fixes him a lopsided smile.

"Sorry."

"You can be so embarrassing."

"This Zoid is embarrassing! Who the fuck chooses to buy these?" Alejandro rants, motioning the Gustav as a whole. Dragon kinda agrees; Gustav is not her transport of choice, much preferring her own Dragoon Nest, wherever he is. She reclines back in the seat, allowing the gentle bickering of Leo and Allie to soothe hysteric nerves. She won. Finally. The bills are clutched in a death grip. She earned them.

* * *

Dragon pokes her head in. Adamaris is lazily flipping through a magazine with a fierce and red-eyed Mad Thunder on the front. His legs are crossed at the ankle and his posture suggests relaxation. The smell of sickness is no longer as pungent, just an odor assaulted by the slightly open window. Dragon bites her lip, nearly shivering with joy. She clears her throat. Adamaris lifts his head over the magazine, exhaling slightly at Dragon's childish and open-mouthed grin.

"Let me guess. Good news?" Adamaris quirks, raising a brow and settling the magazine on his chest. Dragon stands there, completely awkward and to the point of bursting with excitement. The five bundles of cash are hidden behind her back. Adamaris cocks his head to the side.

"Best news ever. We won!" Dragon shouts, pulling out the clump of money. Adamaris' eyes widen in utter shock, but before he can get in a single word Dragon has cleared the space from the door to his bed. She probably shouldn't have jumped but whatever, celebration. The bed slams against the wall upon impact, but the sound is lost as Dragon buried her head in Adamaris' neck, her arms wrapping tight around his midsection. "I am so happy I could cry."

"That or suffocate me. Loosen up, pretty girl," Adamaris laughs, but Dragon is stubborn and refuses to let go. From his spot on the floor, Fenrir lifts his head and lets out a raspy chuckle. "No? Okay, fine, we have money now should I fall into a oxygen-depraved coma." Adamaris envelops Dragon, his chin on the top of her head.

"How'd you win? Details, love, details. I need to know for when Jenna kidnaps me. She called and threatened to do that, you know." Adamaris sighs. By now Dragon can tell he's losing air so she regretfully lets go, rolling off his chest to squish in between him and the wall. Adamaris scooches over, his gray eyes broken of sickness.

"Did the fever break?" Dragon questions. She places the money on her stomach, not breaking eye contact with Adamaris.

"Enough. Back still hurts a little but I have a few pills left. The Doctor called while you were gone. I think Fenrir shaved a few years off his life when he answered," Adamaris glances over at the wolf, who shrugs his shoulders with a gruff. "Said I should be on my feet by next week. Also brought up the bill….." Adamaris trails off as he reaches for one of the money wads.

"Bill looks covered to me."

Dragon nods, her whole body warm and content. Adamaris rolls to face her, planting a delicate kiss on her cheek. The noises of city life echo in the world outside, wafting faintly like music into the room. Leo and Alejandro joke in the kitchen, sharing the handle of vodka that Allie made a big deal of boasting about. The Zoids still need to be picked up, the bill to the Doctor paid, and the rent caught up. But for now, safe and cozy in Adamaris' loving embrace, Dragon wills her mind to stop its incessant worrying and let the warm blanket of sleep cover her up.

* * *

**A/N-** Damn, don't you feel all warm and squishy inside? Thanks for reading, commenting if you did, and putting up with my hilariously annoying A/N. I have 3-4 more stories in the works, most of them Zoids. No lie, I'm writing Hero in The Meltdown and Time for Miracles and How to Train Your Zoid, if I published that one. I don't remember. Ah well.


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